


Winds of Fate

by Pitkin, skimmonsfiction



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 55,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitkin/pseuds/Pitkin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/skimmonsfiction/pseuds/skimmonsfiction
Summary: “Would anyone mind telling me why I’m here?” Jemma spoke up. Daisy wasn’t answering her questions and was instead asking Jemma personal questions about herself that Jemma had no mind nor reason to talk about with her. She wanted to know what they planned to do with her and for some unknown reason, Jemma decided she needed to stand up, but when she did the ship’s swaying along with her sudden dizziness got the best of her, and her knees buckling where the first and only sign before she collapsed.------------Or, the pirate/witchcraft skimmons AU you never realized you wanted and can't resist or stop reading.





	1. A Pirate's Word

Jemma had woken before sunrise, but it hadn’t yet been time for her to get out of bed and start the day. She was dreading it, in fact, because of the rumors that were going around. They weren’t bad, necessarily, but Jemma hardly found the idea entertaining. Leopold Fitz was to take her to the countryside in the early afternoon, and one of his stable boys had told a horse trainer, who told one of Jemma’s family’s stable boys, who told a maid, who told Jemma herself that Fitz was planning to propose to her on said trip to the countryside. Her step father, Phillip Coulson, would be pleased with the news. He had been Jemma’s guardian since her mother died when Jemma was a baby, and he seemed to be ready to have her marry and leave the household. It wasn’t that Jemma was a financial burden, because the Coulson estate was wealthy beyond one’s imagination and spared no expense, but she could tell he was eager for her to become a woman, marry, and have his grandchildren. The only problem with this plan was that Jemma wanted to become an alchemist, not arm candy for a wealthy inventor whose sole purpose was to bear sons.    
  
It wasn’t exactly her choice though, because how could she turn Fitz down? There had been much worse suitors to ask for her hand in the past and Jemma was positive her time to stall was coming to an end, since she was the fertile, attractive age of 19 and it wasn’t very common for women to reach twenty without marrying, at least for someone of her status. Jemma could read every book on alchemy in Britain, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she was a woman.   
  
Eventually, Jemma heard footsteps, but she was too full of dread to do anything but squeeze her eyes shut and burrow into the blankets.    
  
“Five more minutes, please, I beg of you.” Jemma groaned, trying to get any maids that were entering to wake her to get out and leave her be. She was given an intense surprise, however, when the voice of a man reached her ears instead of the familiar one of her maid.

“Sorry, darling, but we’re on a schedule.”    
  
Jemma’s eyes flashed open and she opened her mouth to scream, but the large dark haired man standing over her bedside clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, attempting to send her into unconsciousness. Jemma thrashed and kicked, but the man hopped onto her bed and straddled her legs. Jemma bit down into the heel of his palm, drawing coppery blood into her mouth and causing the man to grunt, pull his hand back, and slap her across the face.    
  
Jemma reached out to her nightstand and grabbed a candlestick, swinging it up and making contact with the man’s temple. He yowled and rolled off the bed, and Jemma couldn’t help her smirk of satisfaction. She jumped out of bed herself and held the candlestick out at him, circling around him to get to the door. He didn’t let her, though, and snatched at her wrist, twisting it sideways and causing the candlestick to drop. Jemma shrieked and called for help, but nobody came.   
  
“I wouldn’t expect a rescue. The rest of the household is currently incapacitated.” He snickered at her.   
  
“What did you do to them?!” Jemma shouted. She brought her knee up and made unforgiving contact with the stranger’s groin. He cried out and dropped to his knees, but when Jemma darted for the door he stuck his arm out and grabbed her ankle, effectively tripping Jemma so she landed face first on the floor

“I’ve had enough this.” The man told her. He jammed his boot into the small of her back and grabbed her arms, wrenching them behind her back and tying them together with Jemma struggling the whole time. When he dragged her up to her feet and had her close enough, Jemma swung her head and slammed it into the man’s forehead, causing her own head to throb and her pulse to pound in her ears. The man elicited a near animalistic growl and grabbed at her hair, moving them over to the nearby table and slamming Jemma’s face down into it. She groaned and spit blood from her nose onto the wood, but she seemed to have pissed the man off more than she should have. He brought her head up and slammed the side of it against the table again before tossing her to the ground and kicking at her gut.   
  
“Why?” Jemma asked weakly with a wheezing breath.    
  
“Because of your witch bitch of a mother.” The man growled. “This is going to be fun.” He cracked his knuckles and Jemma felt a feeling of dread when he knelt next to her and pulled his arm back just before impact. It didn’t seem to stop, and after when it felt like the beating would never end, she was finally graced with unconsciousness.  
  
__________   
  
  
“Here’s the goddamn witch.” Ward stormed into Daisy’s quarters on the ship without knocking, unceremoniously letting the unconscious young girl over his shoulder slide down his front and collapse into a heap on the floor with a thump as her head hit the wood. Her white night gown was spotted with blood and her face and arms were a mess, eye swollen shut and lip busted open, topped off with a bleeding nose and bruises covering the rest of her face.

Daisy had been waiting for Ward to return with their captive. He hadn't been sent out alone but the scouts that had gone with him were just to help keep anyone from raising alarms and preventing the kidnapping from taking place. The moment Ward left the ship, Daisy regretted putting him in charge of this task. Mack would have been too conspicuous with his sheer bulk and size alone or she would have sent him. Elena and Bobbi would have been a better choice but she'd needed them for a few other tasks to ensure the boat was ready as soon as they had Jemma onboard. She was organizing her notes and some course charts when Ward came busting through the door.    
  
Even before he pretty much dumped Jemma on the ground, Daisy saw the red blood splotches on her nightgown. Her face darkened and her jaw clenched when she saw the full force of Ward's handiwork. "What did you do?!" She crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed him by the collar, pointing with her free hand to their captive. She reeled a fist and swung it, hard, into Ward's gut to double him over. Letting go of his collar, she gripped the back of his neck, fingers digging tight into his skin as she made him look at Jemma's injuries. "I ordered no harm come to her! Does this look like she's been left unharmed?!" Daisy growled.

Ward coughed and sputtered from having the wind knocked out of him, but he was laughing at the same time and the more Daisy made him look the prouder he was of what he’d done.    
  
“She fought me.” Ward shrugged and chuckled, giving what he knew was a pathetic excuse for beating the girl to a pulp. It was just the beginning of his revenge and if Daisy wasn’t going to let them kill her, there were other things he could do. “She’s alive isn’t she?” He asked, brows raised. “And on our ship no less.”

Daisy ground her jaw tighter together. Her nails dug deeper into his flesh for a moment. "Oh, she fought you, eh?" She said as if she were about to just let it go like that. Of course she wasn't. Instead she began to swing at Ward. First she delivered an uppercut to the underside of his jaw to stand him back up. "I. Gave. You. Orders." She swung, left and right fist  quickly back and forth, accenting each word until the last when she hooked her heel behind his calf and punched him hard enough for the momentum to take him off his feet.   
  
Once he was on the ground, she pulled her dagger from the sheath at her belt and brought the very sharp blade to Ward's neck as she knelt with a leg thrown over either side of his chest, effectively keeping his arms from coming up to swing at her. "Look at me" She smacked hard at his cheeks and made him squint through his own swelling eyes at her. "Listen well, Boy," she practically snarled at him. "This woman is not responsible for our cursed misfortunes," she had repeatedly reminded the crew of this while they had been mounting a plan for their operation. "If anyone on this crew attempts to lay a vengeful finger on this woman with any sort of malice or intention to do her harm, I will hold your personally responsible and will not hesitate to desert you on the closest uninhabited island I find if I don't lose my temper and run you through with my blade first. Now, you get one chance to answer me correctly when I ask you, do you understand me, Boy?" She spit the words at him angrily. 

“Crystal clear, Captain.” Ward grumbled, giving in to his position in the crew. He didn’t regret his actions, but he knew he had to stand down when Daisy got this angry.    
  
A few feet away, Jemma elicited a groan and shifted on the floor, wrapping her arms around her torso and curling in on herself a bit. She didn’t know where she was, but she could tell she was near the ocean because of the salty sea smell. It made her squint through sore eyes and when she saw Ward, they widened, but she didn’t have the energy to scramble away like she wanted to. She could tell, from the general look of her kidnappers, that they were pirates, but she didn’t understand why this was happening other than the possibility that she was worth a hefty ransom.

Daisy stared hard at Ward, trying to decide if she believed him or not. She didn't get to decide further because she heard Jemma groan. Daisy stood up and put her dagger away. She pulled Ward to his feet by the scruff of his shirt and vest. "Return to your duties," she ordered, pushing him out the door, not at all sorry that his height cause him to hit the back of his head on the top of the doorframe on the way.    
  
Daisy momentarily leaned out through the door and spotted Elena and Bobbi hovering nearby, having heard the commotion. "Make sure everyone's present and accounted for and all supplies are secured then set sail and get us out of here before the hounds follow her scent to our boat," Daisy glared at Ward and looked to the women for confirmation. Both women nodded and went into action, calling out orders to the crew to remove the mooring ropes and get the sails going to navigate away from the port.    
  
Daisy returned into her quarters and shut the door behind her. She turned around and surveyed Jemma's injuries with a frown. "Good day, Miss Simmons. I would like to express my sincerest apologies to you for the grievous mishandling you've suffered at the hands of one of my crew," she stepped closer but stayed out of arm's length of Jemma mostly to try to avoid further scaring her after she'd been beaten so severely. "You have my word that it will not happen again."

“A pirate’s word?” Jemma questioned skeptically, attempting with all her might to struggle to her hands and knees. It didn’t sound like a very good promise to her. “How can you claim morality if you are not above kidnapping?” She questioned, eyeing Daisy up and down. She got herself into a sitting position on the floor and tried to wipe away some of the blood in the corner of her mouth. She wasn’t sure how to behave around the female captain whose words tried to portray a softer side of her than the one shown by her beating and threatening of the crew member who did her dirty work.

Daisy’s demeanor didn't change at Jemma's accusations. She stood up and strode over to a cabinet grabbed out a clean cloth and went to her wash bowl, used the pitcher there to wet the cloth. She squeezed it out and walked back toward Jemma, only getting close enough to hold it out where Jemma could reach it. "The word of a captain," she said, her tone calm and even, much different from what she'd used with Ward - who, by the way had disobeyed orders and knew what sort of consequences came with those actions.    
  
"I would have sought private counsel with you on your own terms, but," she shrugged. "It is not my preference to have you aboard this ship, Miss, but I had little choice given the circumstances we find ourselves in," she said. "My orders were that no physical harm come to you. Ward disobeyed and I assure you, he will pay for his failure."

Jemma frowned, wondering what exactly the captain’s objective was if it didn’t appear to be ransom- nobody would prefer to kindly meet with someone they were going to ransom off.    
  
“Why am I here?” Jemma asked, hesitantly accepting the wet cloth and cringing as she dabbed at her injuries with it. Nothing was making any sense, from the way the captain and the crew member acted down to the purpose of the whole debacle.

Daisy eyed Jemma's wounds with great concern etched into her facial features. "You're  here because you are, unfortunately, a piece in a very complicated puzzle, I'm afraid." She answered, not entirely sure what Jemma knew of her parents and the curse that Jemma's own mother had put on the ship's crew after her father's demise. Now was not the time to get into politics, though. Jemma had been through a terrible ordeal because of Ward and it would take her longer to settle in now because of it.   
  
"We will discuss details later," Daisy held her hands out to help Jemma up, offering the help rather than just reaching out to force it in the hopes that Jemma would at least understand that she was putting effort in to avoid manhandling her. She greatly regretted having to send Ward to retrieve Jemma over the others but if she had, the boat wouldn't have been ready to sail and that would have presented its own problems. "First, I'd like to care for those wounds, if you'll let me of course, give you something to change into and have something to fill your stomach. It’s the very least I can do for having to meet under these circumstances and doubly so for the terrible treatment you were first afforded by a member of my crew."

“But I’m not allowed to leave, am I?” Jemma asked, meaning for the question to show how she felt about this situation, even if the captain was attempting to be a nice kidnapper. She reached out and took her hand anyway, but only because she didn’t think she could get up without it, not because she was trying to show mutual respect.    
  
What had Jemma even more confused was what kind of puzzle she was a piece of. She didn’t know how she was connected to pirates other than that her father had been killed by some, but by the look of the captain she was too young to be that pirate.

"I'm afraid that's not possible just yet," Daisy was careful not to be too rough as she helped Jemma up. When it was clear she'd need further assistance to the oversized plush chair in front of Daisy's desk, Daisy slipped an arm around Jemma’s waist and eased most of Jemma's weight off her feet to make moving easier, steady too since the ship was swaying a bit more now that they were moving out of the port. She eased Jemma into the chair and took away her journal and charts to clear space on the desk.    
  
Daisy knew quite a bit about Jemma’s parents. She knew why Jemma's father was killed. She knew Jemma’s mother was a witch, who had been pregnant with Jemma when her father was killed. She knew Jemma's mother had cast the curse that still afflicted her crew, though they were not members of the crew who had killed Jemma's father. She knew that her own father was dead because of hat curse. Her mother lasted longer than her father, but eventually she succumbed to the inevitable fate of the curse. What she didn't know, however, was how much Jemma knew about her parents' history.   
  
"Perhaps if we're lucky, you’ll be back in time for your nuptials," Daisy said as she rummaged through a drawer of the desk.

“How do you know about that?!” Jemma asked, but she also figured she was the talk of the town at the moment and if any of the pirates had spent any manner of time in town or even at the docks then they had probably heard. It made her angry to feel like the captain knew so much about her when Jemma didn’t even know the woman’s name.    
  
“I haven’t said yes yet.” Jemma huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, completely indignant. She didn’t know why she was making conversation with her kidnapper in the first place, but she couldn’t help but tell someone she wasn’t pleased with her situation at home either.

"Is that so?" Daisy quirked up her right eyebrow as she came up from the drawer with a decanter full of rum and a small jar. She filled a short, round glass halfway and set the glass in a carved cradle in the desk in front of Jemma, figuring it would help ease the pain from her injuries a bit. Then she placed the other jar closer in front of Jemma. Inside was a thick gel-like substance of a deep emerald color. It didn't smell so great, but it had a purpose. "If you spread some of this around your eyes, cheeks and jaw, it should help with the swelling. Not the best smell in the world, but," she shrugged. "Takes some of the sting out too. Old Chinese remedies," she gave Jemma a small wink before she sat back in her chair. "So, are you going to say yes?" She asked. "Or is it actually Coulson's decision in the end?" Daisy honestly wasn't sure of the answer to this question so she asked it with genuine curiosity.

The hairs on the back of Jemma’s neck bristled when she understood just how much the pirate knew about her. And Jemma didn’t even know her name. She eyed the remedy suspiciously and pushed it away, preferring a slow healing time and the soreness of the bruises over lathering an unknown substance on her face. She sat back in the chair and frowned.    
  
“It’s yours.” Jemma said bitterly. “I have to be home for my step father to marry me off, so it would seem the decision has fallen onto your shoulders.” She explained. “Unless of course I am found and rescued, in which case you would be hanged and it wouldn’t matter for you whether I get married or not.” Jemma shrugged nonchalantly. “What is your name anyway?”

Daisy watched Jemma’s body language with genuine intrigue. Through the bruising and welts (which, she wished Jemma would use the gel on to reduce a bit at least) she could see that Jemma was an attractive woman. It was a little surprising that Coulson hadn’t managed to marry her off already. She smirked a bit, not letting the words rile her up. It wasn’t the first time she’d been informed of the punishment for being a privateer. She’d grown up in this world and knew no others. “Are you avoiding the true answer to the question or are you avoiding making the decision yourself by deflecting it onto me?” She challenged with a small smirk, realizing some of Jemma’s feathers were more ruffled than the others. “Daisy,” She offered her first name and then a knock came to the door. “Excuse me a moment,” Daisy stood from the chair and walked to the door. Unlocking the latch, she swung open the door and found Kamala at the door. She was one of the crew’s youngest, at thirteen with brown skin and dark hair tied up on her head. She had a full tray in her arms with roast chicken, a small assortment of roasted vegetables along with a pile of red grapes and a few oranges. 

“Hi Da-,” The girl cleared her throat. “Captain! Trip said I ought to bring this up to you now that we’ve left the port.” She said. 

Daisy smiled at the girl. “Thank you, Kamala. Have you eaten yet today?” She took the tray from the girl but nodded for her to follow to the desk. Kamala shook her head. She’d normally have to wait for the others to get their fill before it was her turn and Ace’s turn as they were toward the bottom of the totem pole so to speak. Even so, Daisy always made sure they were properly fed.  Daisy set the tray on the middle of the desk. “Have a seat,” She patted her plush chair and Kamala looked at her, as if she see if she were sure and Daisy nodded. 

To Jemma, she said, “You wouldn’t mind if one of ours was to partake in the meal, would you?” IT wasn’t really a questions as Daisy was already breaking a few pieces of meat off and piling them onto a steel plate with an orange and some grapes for Kamala. 

Jemma was stunned when the child walked into the room. She’d seen hangings of pirates before and had never been bothered when they were murders and thieves, but a child? She hadn’t thought about it. Was a child truly guilty of anything when they were born into something? In that case, did it make adults who had been those children guilty? Jemma’s head started to hurt from all the moral debates happening in her head (and from the hits she’d taken to it). She didn’t speak, but she nodded and swallowed a lump in her throat. She didn’t feel much like eating, the child could have it.

Kamala took the plate and thanked Daisy for it before she started digging into the chicken. Daisy gave Kamala’s shoulder a squeeze then took an orange for herself and began peeling it, moving to sit on the wide arm of the chair. She looked over at Jemma. “Try not to overthink it,” Daisy said to Jemma after noticing the various twitches of her expressions, thought she didn’t explain how Kamala came to be on the ship. “It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re afraid of,” She nodded to the food and rum. “I’ll taste everything to prove it if you’d prefer?” She tilted her head. “Or is it pity?” she asked, arching her eyebrows. “If that’s the case, I assure you, there’s enough to go around for the whole crew.” Daisy didn’t let them go hungry. They didn’t let each other go hungry. 

“You should give her your jelly,” Kamala murmured around her food as she licked at the juice on her fingers. 

Daisy smiled at Kamala. “I did,” She pointed to the jar and lowered her voice. “She doesn’t trust us,” she pretended to whisper. 

“Because of Ward?” Kamala asked. 

Daisy pressed her lips together. “That and we didn’t give her a choice,” she nodded. 

Kamala glanced at Jemma and then looked at Daisy. “Because of the cur-,” 

“Why don’t you go ahead and take this with you? You tell Bobbi I said it’s okay to let you finish before your lessons, eh?” She gave Kamala a little more chicken and some more grapes to added to her plate and began to walk her to the door.

Kamala leaned toward Jemma as she walked. “You should use it - it’s yucky but it feels better.” she said before she hurried along to the door. Daisy locked the door again behind her and headed back for her chair. She poured some rum for herself and put the decanter away before she picked up the glass and took a sip, watching to see if Jemma actually took anything to eat, drink or help her wounds. 

Jemma’s one good eye was narrowed when Daisy interrupted Kamala and shooed her out of the room before she could reveal something Jemma very much wanted to hear.    
  
It made Jemma more comfortable to see them eat and drink the same things they were offering her, but Jemma didn’t have much of an appetite after such an eventful morning and she was honestly exhausted, though she wasn’t exactly in a position to go to sleep comfortably. She wanted to know what she was doing here, but she had a feeling Daisy didn’t want her to know yet and that made her nervous.    
  
“It’s true that I don’t trust you, but I don’t pity you either.” Jemma crossed her arms over her chest, but mostly just to brace her sore torso so she didn’t have to put so much work into holding herself up. The pirates were clearly doing their own thing and enjoying it, so if anyone should be pitied at this exact moment in time, Jemma thought it might be her. She’d been kidnapped out of her bed with no idea what her fate would be, but here Daisy was, offering her food and drink. It was all too suspicious and Jemma didn’t know what to think, so she stayed silent and didn’t touch the food or the medicine.    
  
There was another knock at the door and a tall blonde woman entered, already speaking.   
  
“No followers.” The blonde confirmed for Daisy, but when her eyes landed on Jemma she had a look of shock on her face. “That bastard.” The woman muttered, referring to Ward. “Is she okay?”   


Daisy tilted her head. She hadn’t meant pity for her but she’d seen it on her face for Kamala with the plate of food. She didn’t want to get into the details of Jemma’s presence on the ship yet since she still wasn’t sure what Jemma knew of her real parents. The crew’s first mate was the only one Daisy trusted enough with a key to her quarters. Bobbi had been with the ship ever since Daisy’s parents had raided the child trade ring Jemma’s father had set up. She was in it for the long haul and Daisy trusted her with her life, trusted her to obey orders if given them too. 

“Well enough to talk,” Daisy answered, her eyes darkening as she thought about further punishment for Ward’s actions. “Seems he’s done a number on her ribs to go along with the welts on her face,” She motioned toward Jemma’s crossed arms. “Trying to hold them braced,” She mimed Jemma’s crossed arms. “Doesn’t want ma’s jelly to ease the pain. Doesn’t seem to like Rum either. Or chicken for that matter,” She said. “Ward still need to be knocked down a few more pegs?” She asked Bobbi since she was sure he was walking around bragging about what he’d done to whoever would listen. She was going to have to address this in full before the sun went down.

Jemma eyed them both while they talked about her like she wasn’t in the room, like she was their new pet and they couldn’t figure out how to feed her. At least Daisy was getting revenge for Jemma by making sure Ward didn’t get away with nearly beating her to death.    
  
“He’s spreading fire as usual.” Bobbi said, giving a concerned glance toward Jemma. There were two ways to solve their problems, and one of them was much less preferable, but because it was the easy route some of the crew was starting to believe it was the best route.    
  
“Would anyone mind telling me why I’m here?” Jemma spoke up. Daisy wasn’t answering her questions and was instead asking Jemma personal questions about herself that Jemma had no mind nor reason to talk about with her. She wanted to know what they planned to do with her and for some unknown reason, Jemma decided she needed to stand up, but when she did the ship’s swaying along with her sudden dizziness got the best of her, and her knees buckling where the first and only sign before she collapsed.   
  
“Well then.” Bobbi raised her brows. She had seen Jemma’s face but hadn’t expected her to be in this kind of shape. It made her angry at Ward, but she also knew he had been acting as if Jemma was her mother and not her own person.

Daisy sat forward but didn’t have time to jump up around the desk to stop Jemma from collapsing. She at last didn’t hit her head on anything but her arms on the way down. She frowned and sighed. Lifting her glass, she chugged back the rest of her rum, set the glass down and wiped her hands on her pants. “I never should have sent him,” She grumbled and walked around the desk. Crouching down, she shook Jemma’s shoulder. When she didn’t get so much as a groan, she looked up at Bobbi. “I’m still trying to figure out what she knew about her parents,” She said, to explain why Jemma was asking her why she was on the ship. She knew Bobbi was with her and would help her convince the others on the fact that the needed to find solution number two because solution one was unacceptable. 

“Let’s roll her over,” She said. “You can help me get her into bed and changed. We’ll take care of the wounds if she doesn’t wake up by then,” She laid out her plan, feeling a great deal of exhaustion deep in her bones that she pushed aside a moment later. 


	2. Desolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for this chapter:** There's a bit of violence in this chapter, 
> 
> Welcome back! What do you think so far?   
> <3
> 
> \-----------

A few hours later, Jemma woke with a start and sat straight up in bed, wondering and hoping for just a moment if it had all been a dream. But as she took in her surroundings, she realized that she was indeed on a ship and she was still aching to no end. It had ceased a bit though, and when Jemma lifted her hand to touch her face, she realized why. Her skin was a bit slippery, like something had been applied to it. She threw back the blankets and found she was still in Daisy’s quarters, in her bed in fact, but she was wearing different clothes. With watery eyes, Jemma stood up and held the sides of her arms so tightly she left her own nail imprints in them. She was alone in Daisy’s quarters and they had been able to change her clothes and lather her up with an unknown medicine without her even knowing.   
  
Jemma was wearing a simple dress, a far cry from what she’d been forced to wear all her life. The clothing itself was comfortable, but the fact that the pirates had had access to her body like that made a shiver move down her spine.   
  
Jemma rushed over to the desk, rummaging around in the drawers and trying to come up with a weapon in case she needed one. She found a letter opener just as she heard footsteps approach the door and she closed the drawer, vaulted back into the bed and tucked the letter opener under the pillow before lying back down and pretending she hadn’t gotten up yet.

Daisy hadn’t strayed far from her quarters, at least not without leaving Bobbi or Mack at the door to keep watch in her stead. She unlocked the door, keeping it locked for Jemma’s protection more than forcing her to stay inside. They were far enough out and weren’t being followed so it wasn’t like Jemma could go very far, really. Anyway, she had a new tray in her arms when she entered. It was a bit concerning to see Jemma still asleep in the bed as she knew it had been quite some time since she’d collapsed. The tray in her arms held two large bowls of soup made from leftover roasted chicken and vegetables from earlier. Each had a lid on top and there were small, homemade mini bread loaves sitting in between them. 

Daisy walked to the desk and set the tray down. She reached for the jar of medicine on the desk and paused a moment brow furrowing. She scanned her desk, feeling as though something was off but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what in particular raised her suspicion. She glanced at Jemma again but she appeared to still be asleep. Daisy went and gathered a washcloth, wet it and squeezed it out then grabbed the medicine jar and headed to the bed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Daisy leaned over slightly to inspect the effects of the medicine. The swelling had been reduced greatly, which was a relief. The bruises would take much more time. 

“Well, at least you’ll be able to open both of your eyes when you wake,” She murmured, half to herself and half to the sleeping woman in her bed. She brought the washcloth up and gently started to wipe away the old medicine, with the goal in mind of clearing the original application off and refreshing it with a new application of the gel. 

It took everything Jemma had not to flinch when Daisy touched her. She had the urge to grab for the letter opener and go straight for the eye that wasn’t covered by a pirate’s eye patch, but she also couldn’t bring herself to commit such a violent act when Daisy was so tenderly caring for her at the moment. Even if she did, she would have to contend with the rest of the crew and the fact that she was in the middle of the ocean. She wasn’t escaping, so the letter opener had to be reserved for self defense only.    
  
She knew she wouldn’t be able to pull off the sleeping act forever, and her stomach was near grumbling at the smell of whatever Daisy brought in. Slowly, her eyes pushed open and she was met with Daisy’s face, calm and caring without a sign of bad intentions. She didn’t jerk away or even say anything, she just looked up at Daisy and her eyes automatically watered, sending tears down the sides of her face.

Daisy froze when Jemma’s eyes opened, mid wipe at Jemma’s jaw. She felt her face twitch a bit when Jemma started crying. “I…” she paused and cleared her throat a moment then went back to work with the washcloth. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. You collapsed so suddenly, we just wanted to take care of your wounds and let you sleep it off,” she set the washcloth on her leg and opened the jar. Slowly and as gently as she could while still making sure she covered all of the dark spots on Jemma’s face, very careful not to get any in her eyes, mouth or up in her nostrils. “It’s something my mother taught us to make,” She said of the gel. She paused, wiped her hands on the washcloth and closed the jar lid. 

Daisy heard Jemma’s stomach grumble lightly and finally let her eyes meet Jemma’s. “Would you like to continue our conversation over supper?” She asked. She tried not to sound too hopeful of the situation because she knew the realities underlying their situation. “If you wish to eat alone, however…” she shrugged and stood up from the bed, moving out of the way to let Jemma decide as she went to put the jar away. 

“Wait-“ Jemma blurted before she even knew why. Without realizing, she had been leaning into Daisy’s touch and it was a loss when it disappeared. She didn’t know how to give Daisy what Daisy had just given her with the small detail about Daisy’s past, so Jemma confessed. “I can hardly remember my mother. And I never met my father.”

Daisy looked up from the desk and paused. She weighed her options carefully. “I’m sorry for your losses,” She wasn’t sorry that Jemma’s parents were dead so much as sorry that Jemma had been pulled into the mess that surrounded their deaths and plagued Daisy and her crew to this day. She stepped back over toward the bed and offered her hand out for Jemma. “Let’s get you some food, hm?” She arched her eyebrow upward. She didn’t know if Jemma would be steady on her feet by now or not and she didn’t want to chance having her collapse again. 

“Ok.” Jemma nodded. It was afternoon now and she still hadn’t eaten since the night before, so her stomach was a bit angry with her. She took Daisy’s hand, surprised by just how soft it was, and sat up, trying to ease the dizzy spell that came with it.

Daisy set a hand behind Jemma’s shoulder to keep her from falling back. “Easy,” She waited to let Jemma adjust. “The swaying takes a bit to get used to sometimes,” She used both her hand and her arm around Jemma’s back to help her up out of the bed and to her feet. She kept a firm but easy grip on Jemma to keep her from wavering and then helped her over to the chair by her desk like she’d done in the morning. She grabbed a glass from the desk and held it out to Jemma. “It’s just water,” she assured. “Unless you’d prefer the rum?” 

Surprisingly, Jemma actually laughed. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t tell if Daisy was joking about the rum or not but she just found it hilarious and ironic that Daisy knew this was a situation that could call for alcohol but was the propagator of the whole thing.    
  
“I’ll stick with the water.” Jemma grinned. Once she was situated and comfortable in the chair, she swallowed down the water faster than she probably should have and put the glass back on the desk.

Daisy smiled when Jemma laughed, unable to stop herself. She had a nice laugh. Daisy mentally scolded herself for thinking it. She walked to her water pitcher and brought it to the desk, refilled Jemma's glass then set the pitcher down in a holder within reach. She walked around the other side of the desk. "If you change your mind..." she smiled and then pulled the lids off of the soup bowls. She put a spoon in each bowl and waited to see what Jemma wanted to do. "How do your ribs feel?" She asked.

“Sore and achy, but manageable.” Jemma nodded, confirming her own level of pain when she shifted in her seat to test it. This time, because she was clearly very hungry, Jemma accepted the bowl and started swallowing down small spoonfuls of it. She wanted to scarf it down, but she knew that was something she’d never been allowed to do. She didn’t quite understand why she wanted to be polite for the pirate.

Daisy’s eyes darkened as she dropped them a moment as Jemma confirmed her pain level, still furious with Ward for what he'd done. She reached for one of the biscuit sized bread loaves for herself as she watched Jemma’s measured pace eating the soup. Daisy held back on eating her own bowl, concerned that Jemma might still be hungry after eating hers, so she waited and took a bite of the grain heavy brown bread.    
  
"I did not intend for you to come to physical harm," Daisy confessed in earnest. "I am genuinely sorry for that added trauma to your ordeal." It was difficult to know how she should explain the situation to Jemma. She wasn't sure yet what Jemma knew of her father's death so Daisy figured this was the starting point. "Provided it wouldn't upset you too much, would you mind if I asked you a personal question?" She'd asked plenty of them before without inquiring for prior permission but Daisy knew this was a particular line that might go farther than her earlier attempts to garner Jemma's knowledge of the situation.

Jemma took a few more spoonfuls of soup after Daisy asked before she answered, giving her enough time to think it through. She couldn’t really see any harm in it though.   
  
“You seem to already know quite a bit about me, so I’ll allow it.” Jemma nodded.

Daisy gave a slight nod of her head to concede the point. She had gathered already that, having had the benefit of having at least her mother for so long in her life as she'd had, to have been privy to details of her family's, and by extension some of Jemma's family histories. Daisy took a moment to sip on her own glass of rum while she tried to form her question carefully, or at least as carefully as she could. She didn't want to upset Jemma's appetite now that it had returned but she knew otherwise Jemma would continue asking why she was on the ship.    
  
"You said you never met your father, so I am assuming of course, and could be wrong, that this means he died before your birth," Daisy said. "Do you know how he died?" She couldn't be sure Jemma knew since she had also said she barely remembered her mother.

Jemma stiffened, bristling a bit at the question even though she had given Daisy permission to ask it. “Your assumption about the timing of his death is correct.” She nodded, carefully moving her spoon around in the soup to give her something to look at other than Daisy. “I was told he was murdered by pirates.” She said in almost a whisper. She looked up at Daisy, trying to analyze her facial expressions. Daisy looked hardly older than herself, she couldn’t have known Jemma’s father, but she was getting a suspicion about her parents’ involvement in all of this. Ward had told her this was because of her mother and Daisy seemed to think there was something about her father tied into everything. “You need to tell me what all of this is about.” Jemma demanded, putting the bowl of soup back on the desk. She was tired of making smalltalk and wanted to know why she’d been so brutally beaten and kidnapped. It wasn’t for no reason.

Daisy frowned thoughtfully as she looked at Jemma's abandoned soup bowl. She set down her glass and turned her bread roll around in her hand without taking another bite. "I will," she nodded in earnest. "Before I do, just one last question. Did they ever tell you what he did for a living?" She needed to know. No, scratch that, Daisy knew they couldn't have told Jemma the truth but she wanted confirmation because she knew how much harder it was going to be to believe otherwise.

“Of course, he was a merchant.” Jemma said. She had never been told of her father doing anything strange while doing business and he wondered how Daisy could have possibly been in any kind of business with her wealthy merchant father.

Daisy dropped her gaze to the desk and put her roll down. She leaned her arms against the desk but straightened her back. "I want you to know that I take no pleasure in telling you this history." She truly didn't. Daisy had dealt with the feelings that welled within when a deceased parent was slandered and her parents had been pirates her whole life. The only saving grace in Daisy's opinion was that they tried very hard not to kill without reason. Rob? Absolutely. Murder? Not so much. Jemma's father, however had been another story.    
  
"I understand if you think pirates are of suspect moral decency. For the most part I'm inclined to agree with you as I've encountered many I'd sooner never deal with again in life," Daisy brought her eyes up as she began to speak, keeping them steady and on Jemma's. "Your father was not just dealing in goods and services. He was dealing in children." There was more, obviously, but Daisy knew the first blow had to sink in.  
  
“Children, what do you-“ Jemma had been about to retort, but then she realized the gravity of the accusation Daisy was making. She was implying that her father was a human trafficker, a slave trader. A child slave trader no less, despite the fact that he was about to have his own child at home with his wife.   
  
Then it all started to hit her. Most of the crew she had seen so far appeared to be just older than her, of varying ethnicities. It was a very particular age group considering what Daisy was saying and the mess Jemma was currently in.    
  
“Are you saying that my father... that you...” Jemma couldn’t even suggest that the father she’d always been told positive things about could have tried to sell Daisy, or any of the others, even Ward, for profit.

“Myself? No,” Daisy shook her head. “But members of my crew yes.” She nodded. Daisy knew the details. She felt a small amount of sympathy for how horrified Jemma appeared. “My father found out. His intention was to out the truth. Your father wouldn’t have it, of course. In the battle that followed,” Daisy hesitated. “The crew from my parents’ ship rescued the kids and killed your father in the process…”

“How do I know this is the truth?” Jemma asked. It made sense, that this was the reason they were kidnapping her, the reason Ward was so angry with her, but she didn’t know how her mother was involved as Ward said. She wasn’t exactly doubting Daisy’s words, she’d never actually met her father after all and had no sense of his morality... but it still didn’t quite make sense in Jemma’s head.    
  
“Am I some sort of revenge then?” Jemma asked. If they had killed her father, she didn’t know what else they wanted, and there was still the piece about her mother.

Daisy frowned. She understood how it was hard to believe. It was Jemma’s second question, though, that really pulled on Daisy’s shoulders, weighing on her. “I meant it when I said I intend for no harm to come to you,” Daisy repeated, though it was obvious there was a ‘but’ involved. “I confess, there’s more to the story than just your father, I’m afraid.” She frowned. “Your father was a merchant and he dealt in the terrible act of trading in children, but your mother…” How was she supposed to say this and have Jemma believe it? “Your mother was a witch. Every person on this ship suffers from the curse she placed upon us after your father’s death-,”

“Witchcraft is for children’s tales.” Jemma interrupted Daisy. It had already been hard to absorb that the father she’d been told so many good things about was actually a horrible person, but to have her mother’s image threatened on top of it all was overwhelming, especially with such a wild accusation. “I believe in science, and so did my mother.” Jemma said firmly. She’d seen women accused of witchcraft hung in the town square, but that was not how her mother had died. “My mother died from illness. Had she been a witch, which I’m not admitting exist, she could have cast a spell or something of the like and cured her ailments.” She argued. Her mother was not a witch.

Daisy felt her hackles rise. Her jaw clenched. Jemma had no idea the suffering that went on on this ship thanks to her mother. She understood the curse upon her parents and the crew before them, but the children? The children had done nothing more than been saved from the horrific future of enslavement. Kamala and Ace were the only ones upon the ship that didn’t suffer the slights of the curse since it had been before their time. They were always tucked away and locked in their own cabins with a secret second exit every night that only Daisy knew about just as a precaution.   
  
Daisy slammed her hands down on the desk but otherwise stayed stock still, cutting off attempts for Jemma to argue further for the moment. “That curse ripped my father’s soul from his body and left him to wander like a vacant shell until he walked off the bow one night when he could stand the separation no more,” She snapped. She didn’t tell Jemma, of course, that part of the reason that happened was because of her own ignorance as a child. Part of the curse said if they were off the ship on dry land when the sun set, soul would separate from body and there would be no way to reunite the two. In addition to that, each sailor felt the curse differently. Urges arose in spades, magnified to be unbearable. Some scratched at imaginary bugs under the skin, some felt unending rage and the need to fight, some the need to satisfy urges of the flesh - all urges and desires were intense and fully insatiable, no matter the attempted treatment. It was why Kamala and Ace locked away at night. 

Daisy glanced at the light coming in from the window. There was still time before sunset. “You don’t have to take my word for it,” she told Jemma, her face the closest to a glare it had been in Jemma’s direction since the start. “You’ll experience the effects of the curse once the sun sets.” She stood up from her desk and slowly walked around to the window to peer out. “Every manner of urge and desires strikes from the heart of each crew member. It is magnified by the thousand and insatiable no matter the attempted remedy.” Some of the crew members took measures to ensure they were unconscious for the nights, taking all manner of elixirs or medications for the purpose of sleeping lest they wind up succumbing to the fallout of insomnia. Her mother had been one of those cursed to be unable to find peace in sleep. She’d needed multiple tonics and often to be strapped down at night while stuck in her potion-fueled sleep as the nightmares claimed her. The insomnia was what killed her in the end. She couldn’t bear the sleep any longer and stopped taking the sleeping tonics. Daisy watched over weeks as it slowly broke her down before she finally ended it herself. She didn’t need or want to tell Jemma this right now, though. 

Jemma jumped when Daisy slammed her hands on the table and was shaking slightly as Daisy continued. It didn’t seem like Daisy was lying, but how could it be true? How could her mother be a witch? It made sense with the situation, with Jemma’s connection to Daisy’s crew, but it was difficult to accept in any manner.    
  
“So say you are cursed... what am I supposed to do? I’m not a witch...” Jemma shook her head. She had never believed in such shenanigans, there was no way she could possibly be one.

Daisy crossed her arms over herself for the first time. She watched the water and the horizon for a long few moments. “I hope for the sake of your life that you are,” Daisy looked over at Jemma. “There are only two ways to break the curse. Either you find us a way through magic since you were part of the being who cursed us…” She didn’t even want to say it. She didn’t want to think it. She didn’t want to give credence to the fact that killing Jemma meant an easy break to their suffering. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t their fault the curse existed. It wasn’t Jemma’s fault either. 

“Or you end the witch’s lineage to break her curses...” Jemma finished. It hadn’t been in her town, but she’d heard of accused witches being murdered because their neighbors claimed they were cursed, and the children of the witches were often executed as well to make sure the curse broke. That meant that Jemma was here to break the curse herself or die to do so.    
  
“This can’t be real.” Jemma’s hand flew to her hair and tugged at it, trying to see if she could get herself to wake up in her bedroom. She would marry Fitz, do whatever her step father wanted, as long as she could get off this ship. Jemma knew she wasn’t a witch, and that meant she was going to die here. “You have the wrong girl, I’m not-“ Jemma’s chest started heaving, showing the beginning signs of a panic attack. She stood up and wandered to the bed to get a little further from Daisy and sat down on the edge of it, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket and rocking slightly. “You said you wouldn’t harm me, but that is as much of a lie now as it was this morning when your crew member beat me.”

Daisy frowned and dropped her eyes back to the floor fo avoid having to look at Jemma as she said it. It wasn’t until she heard the panic attack happening that she looked up again. She took a step toward Jemma but stalled, unsure if she should go near her or not while it was happening. She shook her head. Now she stepped closer, wanting to insist on her motives. “My orders were that you were to remain unharmed. They remain so even now. It’s why I’ve not let any crew in but for the uncursed and my first mate. I do not betray my word. I am not a liar and I do not wish-,” She made it in front of Jemma and crouched in front of where she sat on the bed by that point only to be cut off. 

When Daisy got closer, Jemma, who was running on pure fear and adrenaline, shot her hand under the pillow, grasped the letter opener’s handle in her fist, and swung it toward Daisy’s neck from the side.

Daisy caught the movement in her periphery. Her hands swung out simultaneously, one caught Jemma’s wrist and the other caught her by the throat reflexively. At the same time, she vaulted to her feet, taking Jemma with her. She pulled Jemma off to the side and pressed her to the wall, twisting her hand tighter around Jemma’s wrist until the letter opener fell from her grip. Her hand was firm around Jemma’s neck but it was pressed up close to her jaw rather than choking off her air supply. 

Daisy’s jaw clenched as her face was mere inches from Jemma’s. “You are only alive at this time because you are under  _ my _ protection on this ship,” She spoke in a tone that was calm and collected but clearly relayed the reserved anger boiling beneath the surface of her eyes at Jemma’s violent attempt. “If you wish to make it out of this with your life, you’d do well to remember that,” She snarled. 

Jemma was initially terrified out of her right mind when Daisy pinned her up on the wall by her neck and forced the closest thing she had to a weapon out of her hand, but when Daisy threatened her Jemma’s eyes darkened and her jaw clenched under Daisy’s hand.   
  
“If your crew didn’t listen to you with sound mind, your protection is worth nothing to me and I have no reason to believe your word is either.” Jemma snarled. “I’m not a witch, so you’re going to kill me no matter what I do.”

All of the things Jemma said had crossed Daisy’s mind. What option did she have? If she hadn’t planned out the kidnapping and convinced them that Jemma stood a chance of breaking the spell, any one of them could have killed Jemma in her sleep in her bed. She kicked away the letter opener and released Jemma. Picking up the item, she went and locked it in her desk with whatever else she thought could be used as a weapon. Going forward, she’d have to enter with her flintlock pistol drawn and ready now. She left open only the cabinet with her various scrolls and books and the one with the linen. She left the gel for Jemma’s bruises on the desk as well and muttered. “Finish your supper,” as she marched out of her own quarters. The door slammed behind her and Daisy loudly turned the external locks. 

Daisy looked down at her own hands a moment and wondered what her mother would do in this situation. Bobbi noticed her and started her way. Daisy noticed Ward heading below decks, jovial,  laughing and bragging still. She clenched her jaw and her fists. “Stand guard. No one goes in or out. No one.” She didn’t wait for Bobbi’s confirmation. Instead she stalked after Ward. Heading below decks, she flipped the patch over her left eye upward since the patch kept it adjusted to the dark. Just as Ward was going on about how he nearly beat Jemma to death for the hundredth time to some of the other crew, Daisy lost any control she had over her temper. “Ward!” she growled. As soon as he spun around she was on him, fist over fist flying into his face. When Ward hit the ground, Daisy landed a few swift kicks to his torso. She dropped on top of him and kept swinging until his eye was as swollen as Jemma’s had been, his lip as split as hers and, hopefully, his ribs as cracked. Stood up when he was left a groaning, writhing mess and looked at the surrounding crew, the ones that seemed most likely to disobey like Ward. With her jaw set and Ward’s blood dripping from her own busted knuckles, Daisy made her warning speech. 

“We are a crew - a team! We work together for a common goal and we have each other’s backs!” She shouted. “Even so, I am your Captain and I will  _ not _ tolerate deliberate disobedience - DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!” She demanded of them and repeated it until she had confirmation from everyone. To Lincoln, Kebo and Kara, she said, “Clean him up and take him to his bunk.” They nodded and Daisy marched away again. She headed back toward her quarters but knew she couldn’t go in there. She looked at Bobbi. “...Are you alright to keep watch over her for a short time?” She didn’t want to burden the rest of the crew with the task but she knew she needed to breathe deeply and give herself some momentary meditation time, to clear her mind and reset herself to the task at hand. She needed to do it before the sun went down. 

“I’ve got it covered.” Bobbi nodded. She could tell by the look of Daisy that she had given Ward a beating, and she couldn’t help the self satisfied smirk on her face because of it. He had it coming, nearly killing an innocent girl like that, even if the girl’s mother was the devil.    
  
Bobbi watched as Daisy sulked away, presumably to start her nightly meditation. Bobbi didn’t know how Daisy handled it so well compared to the rest of them. Come sundown, Bobbi would scratch and scratch and no matter how many places she broke skin or how deep she went, the itch was never gone. She glanced at the disappearing sun on the horizon and could already feel the tingling on her sleeve covered, scarred forearms. She fought the urge to scratch, but knew it wouldn’t last for long.   
  
About half an hour past sundown, Bobbi was scratching furiously at her arms and the back of her neck. She was opening new wounds and scratching open ones from previous nights, but she couldn’t stop and the itching was only getting worse. It was just the beginning of the night and with the solution so unbearably close, Bobbi couldn’t take any more. She used her key to unlock Daisy’s quarters and stepped inside to find Jemma softly crying on the bed, facing the wall.    
  
“Get up.” Bobbi ordered, slamming to door behind her, locking it, and absently itching her hip.    
  
Jemma startled when Bobbi walked in, but she was one of the faces Jemma knew to be kind, at least kinder than Ward (possibly even Daisy, as Jemma had no reason to distrust Bobbi yet). She caught Bobbi looking at her unfinished meal on the desk and scowling. She hadn’t had an appetite after the incident with Daisy, but she’d never been as terrified as when Bobbi walked over to the bed with heavy footsteps and a crazed look in her eye as she scratched her cheek raw.   
  
“I said get up.” Bobbi ordered. She was trying to resist it, the urge to kill Jemma, but the itching was going to get worse and so was the fighting between the crew and all of the other horrors they had to deal with. They didn’t know if Jemma could even break the curse, but killing her was a fast, easy route to their solution.   
  
Jemma hesitantly got to her feet, eyeing the door. Bobbi didn’t look like she had the first time she came into the room. Her breathing was more labored, her eyes were more tired and crazed, and her whole body seemed to shake. Jemma could tell as she scratched herself nonstop that the curse was real. The hairs on the back of her neck rose just before Bobbi lunged at her, trying to grab her arm. Jemma ducked and slipped away, running around to the other side of the desk and failing to yank open the drawer with the letter opener as Bobbi slowly approached, practically growling as she scratched like a rabid dog with fleas.    
  
“Help! Daisy!” Jemma sprinted to the door and jiggled the knob, but it was locked with a key from the inside as well and Bobbi stalked closer yet again. She lunged and Jemma tried to sidestep it, but Bobbi caught her by the hair and flung her into the wall, knocking the wind out of her. Jemma had a feeling this was going to be worse than Ward. Ward at least knew what he was doing, but Jemma didn’t think Bobbi had any semblance of control over herself. After sliding down to the floor, Jemma tried to crawl away, but Bobbi delivered a swift kick to her side that sent Jemma rolling onto her back, coughing and sputtering. She didn’t have the energy to fight back this time, not when she was already hurt and she had a feeling this outcome was inevitable. She just wanted it to be quick.   
  
“You’re the key, you know that right?” Bobbi asked, throwing a leg over Jemma and sitting on her stomach, eliciting a groan from Jemma because of her cracked ribs and sore abdomen. “It could all be over. All those years having to suffer every night because your father was a monster and your mother was a witch.” Bobbi snarled some more, still scratching. She pulled a knife from her belt, but ended up using it to scratch at her arms, causing her own whimpers to escape as blood began to run down her arms and drip onto Jemma’s chest.   
  
“This will be so much more fun.” Bobbi said, discarding the knife to the floor. “To kill you with the hands I’ve been scratching with for almost two decades.” After this, Bobbi clamped her hands around Jemma’s throat, pushing her into the floorboards and digging her thumbs into the soft part of Jemma’s throat. Jemma made a choking, gurgling sound and her fingers tried to pry at Bobbi’s, but Bobbi was much stronger and her grip only got tighter. Jemma’s face reddened, her lungs screamed for more air, and the edges of her vision started to go dark.

Daisy had climbed up to the crow’s nest after Bobbi assured she had the guard watch. Her intention was to start on her meditation. She’d been meditating since she was a small child. Every night since the curse had been cast, Daisy was subjected to a bitter emptiness, a loneliness the likes of which she didn’t know what it was like to live without, the kind that lingered in her mind long after the sun rose. She’d filled the nightly void with alcohol. She’d filled it with sex. She’d filled it with glut. There was nothing to take it away. There was no mate to her soul to make her whole. Daisy knew there never would be a filler for this void even if the curse was broken, or she assumed it was true at least, because she couldn’t imagine a life without it at this point. 

Daisy’s mother had taught her to meditate and it was the only thing that kept her just calm enough anymore to remain under control of her faculties. What she hadn’t intended to do while meditating though was to fall asleep in the crow’s nest. She woke up with a start, having thought she’d heard her mother call her name to find it was dark. Daisy jumped to her feet and looked over the edge of the nest down into the boat. Alarmed, her eyes widened as she realized Bobbi wasn’t at the door to her quarters.  _ Shit _ . How long had Daisy been asleep? 

Quickly, Daisy jumped from the crow’s nest to the closest counter balanced rope and rode it down to the deck. She heard Jemma scream her name and then heard the commotion inside her own quarters.  _ No! _ Grabbing her own key, she rushed to the door and jammed the key in the locks to unlatch them. She burst inside and saw Bobbi on top of Jemma, choking her. 

“Bobbi, NO!” Daisy raced across the room, dropped her shoulder and dove, wrapping her arms around Bobbi as she tackled her off of Jemma. They tumbled across the floor and Daisy locked her arms, gripping one forearm with the other and even locking her legs around Bobbi to limit the amount of thrashing she could do. 

Jemma gasped for air, chest lifting off the ground with the effort. The ceiling was spinning above her and Jemma was only vaguely aware of the struggle going on beside her as she gasped for breath and tried to remain conscious with the rush of oxygen suddenly countering the effects of Bobbi’s attack.    
  
“I have to!” Bobbi shouted, struggling against Daisy’s grasp. “I have to kill her to make it stop!” She shouted, pointing to Jemma, who was still lying flat on her back on the floor. Bobbi was still itching and thrashing and she couldn’t make it go away. While Daisy tried to pin her down, Bobbi reached around and managed to grasp her knife. Rolled so she was on top of Daisy, and, being quite a bit taller, was able to struggle to the point where she shifted them enough for Bobbi to reach Jemma.    
  
Jemma had been about to pass out from the dizziness when her eyes flashed open and a scream ripped out of her throat. A stinging, burning pain shot from her thigh down to her toes and it gave Jemma the adrenaline she needed to sit up. She found that the knife was lodged into her leg and she grabbed her own thigh with shaking hands, staring in horror at Daisy and Bobbi.

Daisy struggled to keep the taller woman from breaking free but there was only so much she could do without outright letting Bobbi go. “This is not the way!” Daisy screamed. She knew she had to get the door locked or they would be in a lot more trouble. She rolled Bobbi away from Jemma and threw her as hard as she could to get some distance. She didn’t realize in the tumble that Bobbi had grabbed Daisy’s own dagger from its sheath. “Don’t!” Daisy shouted at Jemma. “Don’t pull it out!” She scrambled for her feet and turned toward Bobbi just in time to feel a searing jolt of pain right through her right side an inch or two above her hip. Daisy’s momentum stopped suddenly. She blinked, disbelief and betrayal on her face as her eyes drifted to Bobbi’s in the candlelit room. 

Jemma stared, eyes wide and full of tears, as Bobbi managed to stab Daisy with another knife. She wouldn’t have been able to guess based on meeting Bobbi earlier that something like this could happen, and apparently neither could Bobbi, because she looked up and down Daisy’s body and a look of horror passed over her face.  
  
“Daisy, I’m so-“ Bobbi never got to finish.

Daisy knew, in her brain, that this happened because of the curse and not because Bobbi wanted it. In her heart, it only solidified the void, the emptiness, the fact that she was alone and putting trust in any of the others was a misplaced sense of loyalty. She knew that was her version of the curse exacerbating this but she was too weak in the moment to fight against it. She needed to get control of this situation. Daisy grabbed her flintlock pistol from her belt as Bobbi eyed her up and brought the butt of it down against the side of Bobbi’s head. Bobbi collapsed to the ground as Daisy’s eyes clouded. She and Bobbi had grown up together after Bobbi had been saved from Jemma’s father’s trafficking. They were practically siblings, really. Daisy never would have thought Bobbi capable of physically hurting her. 

Daisy looked down and stared, wide eyed, at the dagger handle sticking out of her side. She heard the commotion of the others on the deck and her attention snapped to the door. She rushed, adrenaline born anew, to the door and slammed it shut, locking it before anyone reached it and lowering a barricade bar down across the hooks on the door and the wall as an added precaution. 

Staggering, she untied her belt , grunting in pain as she did, and tied Bobbi’s arms at the wrist behind her back, then went to her desk and unlocked the drawers. She gathered what medical supplies she had there, slowly crumpling to her knees. She crawled to Jemma. She took the sheath from her dagger and held the leather up to Jemma. “Bite down on it,” she ordered as she tied Jemma’s thigh above the knife up tightly using a length of rope and the letter opener to tighten it. Daisy was sweating by this point, breathing very hard and struggling to remain conscious. She ignored the intense pain in her side, let the pain of the betrayal permeate through her system because it would be harder to fight it at the moment otherwise. 

“What? Why? What are you going to do?” Jemma questioned, continuously looking back and forth between Bobbi, the knife in Daisy’s side, and the knife in her own thigh. She bit down on the leather nonetheless and closed her eyes to prepare for whatever Daisy was about to do since the tourniquet already hurt enough on its own.

Daisy gripped the knife in Jemma’s thigh, steadied the leg with her other hand and yanked it out. She dropped the knife immediately and slipped her hand into an open jar next to her. This one was filled with a dark red paste-like substance. She scooped a large amount out on her index and middle finger and pushed the paste deep into the hole left behind by the knife. “This is going to burn,” She said after the glob of paste was already inside the wound. She used both hands to squeeze the wound shut and let the paste, another of the remedies her mother had shown her to make, one they used on some of Bobbi’s worse scratches when Daisy couldn’t keep her hands wrapped up. The paste reacted to blood, heated up and became glue-like with the heat. It basically sealed off the wound, with Daisy’s help holding it shut, it sealed the wound shut into a thin line. Daisy had to wait for Jemma to stop writhing as much to wipe a last amount along the top of the wound seam on her thigh. It would scar, of course, but Jemma wouldn’t bleed out. 

When it was finished, Daisy fell back to the floor, her back leaning against the drawer of her desk. She struggled to steady her breathing, to keep the panic from setting in so she didn’t hyperventilate. She murmured an apology or two to Jemma, for having to hurt her to heal the wound, for the wound having existed in the first place. “I was late, I’m sorry,” she murmured, unsure why she felt compelled to when she’d just saved Jemma’s life. If she’d let Bobbi do it….the curse would be gone, her brain told her. Daisy shook her head head back and forth, clenched her eyes shut and breathed in short, ragged breaths, clenched her jaw tight. 

“Why did you even save me?” Jemma said breathlessly, trying to recover physically and mentally from the intense pain of Daisy treating her wound. “You have to kill me anyway, so why?” She asked, sitting up now. She scooted closer to Daisy, careful not to injure her leg, and gathered up the medical supplies for Daisy.    
  
“Hold on.” Jemma grunted as she pulled out the knife, pulled up Daisy’s shirt, and copied her movements with the gel.

Daisy ground her teeth together and stifled the groan of pain that wanted to escape as Jemma pulled the knife out. She couldn't stop her brain from reminding her over and over that Bobbi had stabbed her. It was still a very cold shock to her system. Fresh beads of sweat drenched her forehead and back as the paste did its job. Her head leaned back against the desk as she tried to catch her breath.     
  
"We don't deserve to suffer...for our parents' sins," she said between heaving breaths. "Neither do you." She told Jemma. Daisy forced herself to her feet. 

With great effort, she dragged Bobbi to the corner and shackled her ankle so if she woke,  her movement would be limited. She staggered back to retrieve the paste to clean up some of Bobbi’s scratch wounds. When she was finished. Daisy sat down with her back against the barred, locked door,  crossing her legs indian style. She set her hands on her knees. "I'm sorry," she said. With her back straight and her hands shaking. Daisy clenched her eyes shut and began forcing a rhythm to her breathing, attempting to fight off the void as it tried to devour her.

“For having me kidnapped or for Bobbi trying to kill me?” Jemma asked, still breathing quite heavily. She sat with her legs extended out in front of her and her arms supporting her weight behind her, holding the best position for the pain in her leg. “I forgive you.” She added, since Daisy clearly looked upset. “And I believe you.” She nodded.

Daisy’s brow was a sweaty mess of creases. She kept her eyes clenched shut regardless of how vulnerable it made her given that Jemma had easy access to both daggers right next to her now. She could kill them both if she wanted to. All Daisy could do was trust that she wouldn’t. The void made it hard to want to care about whether Jemma finally dispatched of her or not. She clung to the conviction that she didn’t want her crew to murder Jemma. “For not making it back before sundown to relieve Bobbi of guarding you.” She answered. Her eyes opened and Daisy strained to keep her breath even, to keep her nightly struggle as outwardly muted as she could, as if the agony wasn’t trying to suffocate her from within. 

“The plan to kidnap you is the only thing that stopped them from voting to murder you in your sleep,” Daisy confessed. “I will not apologize for it, only for Ward’s disobedient behavior in carrying out part of the plan. I have delivered his punishment in full for his actions.” 

“I believe I understand.” Jemma nodded. She glanced over at Bobbi to make sure she was still unconscious before looking back to Daisy, attempting unsuccessfully to meet her eyes.    
  
“If you don’t mind me asking... how does the curse manifest for you? You aren’t like Bobbi.” Jemma frowned. She understood that the curse was there, but not how it affected each individual. If she was supposed to be responsible for getting rid of the curse, she should at least know what she was dealing with.

Daisy did mind her asking. She knew her crew had an idea of what the curse did to her but they hadn’t seen it manifest in full since she was younger, before she managed to get it under control with the meditation and, to some extent, sheer willpower. Explaining it to someone else, a stranger at that, seemed not only a daunting task but also like giving away her secret vulnerability. Still, she knew she had to. Her averted her eyes, first looking at Bobbi’s unconscious form, then looking at her lap. 

Daisy took a long deep breath and closed her eyes. “I am consumed by the void.” She confessed. “Emptiness that is eternal and all consuming.” Her voice was strained, not just from the wound in her side, but from the effort put forth in holding it at bay. It was also a quiet confession. “A vast, boundless sea of nothingness, primed to devour, consume and destroy. I knew from the beginning.” She paused a moment as the memories fell over her, fought through the extra haze of emptiness that shaded them in her mind. It wasn’t real. It was engineered to mess with her mind, weaken her resolve, to let her act impulsively to cure her madness. “I was four, when it started.” She whispered. “Nothing fills it. It just exists to tempt me into impulsive foolish delusion...act rash, forget logical though, put myself and the rest of them in danger.” 

“That sounds very lonely.” Jemma said sadly. It explained a lot; why Daisy always seemed so distant and cold. It was because she had already given up on filling her void because she knew it was the curse and there was nothing she could do about it. But maybe there was something Jemma could do about it.    
  
“What if...” Jemma trailed off, her thoughts running wild. Maybe there was a reason she had been so interested in alchemy. It was a form of science, but it was based on mythology and religion, just like witchcraft. “I was unofficially studying at home. I believe the answer may lie in alchemy.” She said, eyes wide. Maybe if she scoured the world’s knowledge of alchemy she could find the answer.

Daisy ground her jaw together.  _ I don’t need your pity _ , she thought but bit her tongue to keep from saying it.  _ Of course it’s lonely. It’s meant to be lonely. I’m meant to have this role, to drown under the weight of it...and it’s your mother’s fault...tell her. She needs to know. It’s too late now. She can’t just pretend she knows the answer when the answer is really that she needs to die for you to be free… _

Without realizing it, Daisy’s breathing fell off kilter. It might have been because of the added pain of the wound. It might have been influenced by Bobbi’s own betrayal. Whatever it was, Daisy’s breath was suddenly coming out in short, quick, raspy chops. Her eyes flashed open and found Jemma’s wide ones. She ground her teeth tightly together and then...suddenly, she just started laughing. Her head dropped back against the door and the laughter bellowed up from her belly, raucous and simultaneously mad. 

“What is so funny about that?” Jemma asked, clearly offended. She was doing her best to think of a way she could help, and not just so Daisy wouldn’t kill her. She wanted to help Daisy and Bobbi and the others, even Ward, after what she saw Bobbi go through. “You want me to try to fix this but you laugh at my first idea?”

Daisy shook her head. She felt the itch in her fingers, the urge to free herself from the scourge, the blight on her soul. “It’s...It’s all...for naught,” She managed between her giggles. There were tears in her eyes when she managed to turn them toward Jemma. Her hands shook on her knees where the nails were digging into her flesh through the material of her pants. “It doesn’t matter what you try,” The laughter died off and her vision clouded. “It’s always the same,” she whispered. “Desolate.” Her pupils widened and her wasn’t gaze fully focused on Jemma, almost as if in a fugue state. 

Her next movements, however, were not toward Jemma. Her hands wrapped around the closest part of her flintlock pistol and she tossed it, sending it rolling to the floor and skittering under her bed. Her fingers worked furiously at the belt around her waist which still held her sheathed rapier. It clanged to the floor as Daisy made it to her knees but she propelled herself on all fours toward the corner where she had moved Bobbi. Scrambling as quickly as she could make her hands and arms work, she wrestled the remaining shackle around her own ankle before her body started pulling her toward Jemma. The chain never pulled taut though, as Daisy let out a strangled caterwaul and forcibly dragged her own uncooperative limbs as far into the corner of the room as she could. Rather than taking her meditation pose again, she bent her legs at the knees and wrapped her arms tightly around them, pinning them to her chest, her fingernails digging deeply into the backs of her arms.  She forced her face down into the tops of her knees. “It’s just the dark,” She began murmuring to herself. “It’s just the dark. It’ll leave in the morning. Breathe, just breathe. Just breathe.” She groaned against the pain in her side from the constricted position and the force of the muscles moving as she heaved for air. 

Jemma’s eyes softened as she watched Daisy succumb to the madness of the nighttime curse. Everyone seemed to suffer in a different way, but to all of them it was so unbearable that killing Jemma was more than appealing. Many of the crew were banging on the outside of Daisy’s door, shouting “Burn the witch!” and a few other things Jemma would have liked to unhear. There had to be a way to end this that didn’t involve death.    
  
She tried to remember if she ever saw her mother take any notes, but she had only been a small child when her mother died and hadn’t paid much attention to those types of things. She had, however, latched onto her mother’s friend, who was a Chinese alchemist that cultivated her interest in the subject. Melinda May had been a role model and a motherly figure for her until she had turned twelve and May moved to Spain. She had to have some kind of answer if she had known Jemma’s mother so well, and maybe, with her expertise in alchemy, she could identify what her mother had done.

Jemma had a lot of convincing to do when Daisy pulled out of her hysteria in the morning, but for now she needed to do something else. She rummaged through Daisy’s books in her quarters and found one about different types of herbal remedies to read and memorize to distract herself from the shouting crew outside to Bobbi beginning to shout at her from the corner when she woke up. It was going to be a long night. 

A long night it was. Bobbi’s squirming and shouting was not only something Daisy hated to witness since she was powerless to help the woman, but also continued to make it difficult to fight through her brain’s own torment. After awhile, Daisy pulled her bandanna from her head and wrapped it around Bobbi’s head, gagging between her teeth. She’d be able to breathe but her shouts were muffled. She made Jemma toss the green gel over to her and she put it on Bobbi’s wounds knowing it would numb their sparse itchiness at least. But when her thrashing just simply didn’t subside, Daisy resorted to knocking her out one final time so she would be unconscious at least until the sun rose. Reduced to her own mad murmurings into her knees, Daisy wrapped herself into a small ball again to avoid the urges to go after Jemma. Eventually the ordeal of the fight with Bobbi, the wound in her side, and the energy expended from fighting so hard against the darkness actually pulled her into unconsciousness, leaning into the corner of the two walls. It was where she stayed for the last couple of hours til sunrise. 


	3. Speak Freely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments! Sorry we haven't gotten to replies!! Life gets in the way sometimes!! <3   
> Glad you're with us for another adventure! 
> 
> Have at it!!
> 
> _______________________

Bobbi slowly woke in the morning, groaning and trying to blink away her cloudy vision. Skin that had been unimaginably itchy the night before was now burning and stinging and covered in wounds. She slowly remembered all the scratching and cutting she had done and then in a moment, she remembered what she had done to Jemma, but more importantly to Daisy, her best friend. Her head swiveled around the room, passing over Jemma sleeping on the bed and landing on Daisy chained up in the corner near her.    
  
“Daisy.” Bobbi nudged her shoulder and shuddered, tears coming to her eyes when the full memories of the night’s events came back to her like a dream. “Daisy, I’m so sorry.”

Daisy started when her shoulder shook. She inhaled a sharp breath and then immediately groaned as pain shot through her side. Her head whipped around, first looking for Jemma as they came into focus. Then they shifted to Bobbi, tears in her eyes and talking around the bandana, arms tied, still shackled. The moment Bobbi stabbed her played in the back of her mind and her own eyes filled momentarily. She quickly blinked it away and reached out to pull the bandana free from Bobbi’s mouth. “It’s okay,” She said softly despite what had happened. She quickly leaned over to pull the tied belt free from Bobbi’s wrists. “It’s okay,” She reached out to pull Bobbi in and hugged her. She needed to take care of Bobbi’s night time injuries, to clean them all out and treat them, but first she needed to let Bobbi know that it was okay. Before Bobbi left this room...she was also going to need to take her key back from her. 

“It’s not okay.” Bobbi shook her head against Daisy’s shoulder and hugged her tightly, but not too tightly in case she hurt Daisy’s side. She didn’t want to accidentally worsen the wound she had inflicted. “I could have killed you.” Bobbi whispered. She looked over to Jemma sleeping on the bed. “I almost killed her.” Even though her intention had been to kill Jemma to break the curse for everyone, she had hurt her best friend and she didn’t know how to deal with that kind of guilt. “I’m sorry.” She repeated.

Daisy stroked Bobbi’s hair. “But you didn’t,” She reminded Bobbi. “We’re still here,” She assured. “I fell asleep in the crow’s nest. I should have been there before you even had the chance, but I wasn’t. It was my fault, not yours.” She gave Bobbi a careful squeeze. “Let’s get you out of the shackle and clean up your scratches, okay? I...I couldn’t get most of them last night. The void,” She stopped and cleared her throat but slowly pulled back from the hug. She dug around in her pocket for the shackle key and unhooked each of their ankles. She grabbed for the jar of green gel. Without asking Bobbi if it was okay, she first scooped some out and carefully spread it around on Bobbi’s ankle, where the shackle had been. She was going to need to ask Kamala for the supplies from downstairs to make more of the gel and the paste as a precautionary measure going forward. “How bad does it hurt today?” She asked.

“The scratches aren’t so bad.” Bobbi shook her head. She hadn’t been able to do too much damage because she’d been knocked out by Daisy for a big part of the night, but there were still wounds to attend to. “It’s just the cuts that sting. But I’m fine, you’re the one that got stabbed.” Bobbi shook her head and scooted away from Daisy.

Daisy turned. She set the jar down a moment and pulled the corner of her shirt up. “I’m fine,” She showed the sealed wound. It wasn’t pretty, that was for sure, but she wasn’t dead. “Jemma fixed me up after I took care of her leg.” She grabbed up the jar and moved closer to Bobbi. “Now stay still,” She reached for Bobbi’s closest arm, the one she’d used her knife to scratch at. She rolled up Bobbi’s sleeve and held onto her hand with one hand to keep it steady as she carefully spread the pungent gel on it. “We need to get you into your gloves on time tonight…” She was going to have to ask Hunter to help her with that, though she knew that could be hit or miss with his own nightly issues. “It’s not going to be like this forever...we’re going to figure it out,” She said. 

“I really hope so.” Bobbi nodded toward Jemma, who was still sleeping on the bed. She submitted to Daisy’s treatment and held her arms out for the gel to be applied to her self inflicted wounds. “For our sake and hers. I really don’t want to kill her.” She sighed and gazed over Jemma’s sleeping form. She was just an innocent girl who hadn’t done anything to belong in this kind of situation. None of them had.

Daisy glanced over her shoulder at Jemma’s sleeping form on the bed but only for a moment. She forced her eyes back to the task at hand for fear of lingering too long on Jemma. “Well...she believes us about the curse now at least,” She said. “She might have an idea but I don’t know what it is because…” Daisy frowned again, her own shame darkening her features. “Because I got lost again.” It took a lot to throw Daisy off her will power and meditation routine. Being stabbed in the side was a good start for one, having to fight Bobbi for two and then having to fight the urge that to harm Jemma as it welled within. It had been too much for Daisy and she’d chained herself up as a result just to make sure she couldn't reach Jemma. “I’ll discuss it with her when she wakes,” She added. She finished up with Bobbi’s arms and screwed the cap onto the jar before she looked over at her. “She doesn’t deserve to pay for her father’s sins...none of us do.” 

“Speaking of the rest of us...” Bobbi sighed and looked up at the locked and boarded door. The others had their fair share of problems that came with the night and there were a few that probably needed taking care of. “I’ll make sure everyone is okay and get Kamala and Ace, will you check on her for me?” Bobbi asked. She wanted to make sure Jemma was alright after what she’d done, but she was too afraid of Jemma’s reaction to do it herself. “Tell her I’m sorry.” Bobbi requested before hurrying to get out of the room.

Daisy nodded and went to help Bobbi unbar the door so she could unlock it and leave. Daisy locked the door again behind her but left it unbarred. She crossed, slowly to the bed and eased her way down onto the edge of it, trying to remain quiet. Daisy wanted to apologize to Jemma as well for having lost control of the void while Jemma was trying to help form a plan. It was startling, despite the bruises on her face, how peaceful Jemma looked in her sleep. Daisy didn’t want to wake her but she knew soon enough Bobbi would send Kamala with some food for them, provided the others had made it through the night’s trauma alright. 

“Jemma,” Daisy said her name softly and touched her arm but pulled her hand back right away once Jemma stirred. She wanted to check Jemma’s thigh wound to make sure it was contained but she wasn’t going to do so without Jemma being awake and consenting to it. It was bad enough she and Bobbi had had to change Jemma from her nightgown to suitable clothes while she was unconscious.

Jemma flinched when Daisy touched her, which made her leg hurt in turn. Her injured leg kicked slightly and her brows furrowed from the burning sensation. She heard her name almost like it was in the distance, and then she slowly pulled out of sleep to find herself still on Daisy’s ship, swaying slightly with the ocean. It made her feel sick and she wanted nothing more than to sit in the grass back at home and watch the birds fly by. She hadn’t been allowed out of Daisy’s quarters since she arrived, and that was probably for her own safety, but she wished she could get some air and feel the sunlight.

Daisy hesitated. She didn’t want to startle Jemma. A lot had happened in the short span of a single day and night and Daisy was hoping today and later tonight would pass without terrible incident. She found that the longer she watched the distress begin to appear on Jemma’s face as she woke, the angrier she felt with herself for their situations. “Jemma,” She still spoke Jemma’s name in a gentle tone, reaching to tuck some stray hair behind her ear. “It’s time to wake up,” she said. “We need to check your leg,” She attempted to coax Jemma into wakefulness but prepared to bolt off the bed if Jemma panicked. 

This time Jemma recognized Daisy’s voice, and even though Daisy’s touch near her face made her stiffen, Jemma didn’t use the knife she had her hand wrapped around under the pillow. She’d taken one to bed just in case Bobbi or Daisy got loose but she remembered how Daisy had reacted the first time Jemma had attacked, so she was hesitant to even let Daisy know she was hoarding it. She’d find out when they cleaned up the room anyway though, so Jemma opened her eyes and slowly pulled the knife so Daisy knew she wasn’t inclined to use it.    
  
“I believe this belongs to you.” Jemma passed the dagger to Daisy hilt first so she wouldn’t feel threatened and respond in a violent way.

Honestly, Daisy had been so wrung out and exhausted, it hadn’t even occurred to her that Jemma might have taken one of the daggers. Jemma very well could have killed her. Then again, Jemma could have let her bleed out last night after Bobbi stabbed her as well. In fact the dagger in her hand was the one that Bobbi had buried in her side. She frowned as she started to reach fo it and instead just gently pushed Jemma’s hand back toward her slightly. “Why don’t you go ahead and hang onto it,” She said. 

With effort, and pressing a hand to gently cradle her side, she pushed up off the bed to put distance between them. After everything that had happened, Daisy didn't want to crowd Jemma. She did grab the sheath for the dagger though and walked back over close enough to hold it out for Jemma to take but no further. “I’d prefer you didn’t use it on myself or the crew, but…” She dropped her eyes and shifted back away from the bed once again. She wanted to tell Jemma that, if it came down to it, not to hesitate to use it on any of them, but she already wasn’t sure why Jemma hadn’t dispatched of her or Bobbi in the night while they were chained up and unconscious. “I’m sorry to wake you,” Daisy added, “I just wanted to check on your leg,” but hadn’t wanted to while she was unconscious. 

“Oh...” Jemma breathed. “Thank you.” She hadn’t expected any kind of gift from Daisy, much less the gift of self defense, especially when the defense was against her and her crew if the situation arose. It was a meaningful gesture and it, along with the fact that Daisy not only didn’t kill Jemma during her mania, but also stopped Bobbi from killing her, made her actually believe that Daisy didn’t want to hurt her. This meant that the first plan needed to be set in motion.   
  
“My leg is alright. How is your side?” Jemma asked. She wanted to get to work immediately to figure out what they might try to break the curse, but if Daisy died before they started it wouldn’t do any good. She just hoped she’d sealed Daisy’s wound properly the night before.

“A lot better than it would’ve been otherwise,” Daisy answered. “Thank you,” she added. “I’m sorry I was late getting back. It won’t happen again.” She vowed as she eased herself down into her chair at the desk and tried not to grimaced. Her eyes landed on the books left on the desk overnight. She wanted, badly, to ask if there was anything Jemma might have found. She remembered Jemma telling her a plan but she also very hazily remembered going a bit mad afterward and couldn’t recall what the idea was or if Jemma had even actually told her. She didn’t want to seem too overly eager, though. Daisy had dealt with a lot of disappointment in life. A lot of that was funneled through the view of the void, but she knew she had to persist, for the crew’s sake. First, however, she asked. “Is there anything that I can get you that would make you feel more comfortable?” Trust went both ways, she knew and she was hoping allowing Jemma to keep the dagger, along with her actions the previous night would be enough to give them both enough to trust each other. She understood after last night that Jemma wouldn’t be able to trust the any members of the crew, even Daisy’s first mate. Even Daisy couldn’t trust Bobbi come nightfall now. She felt the real pit of despair as it welled within her gut at that thought and had to steady her breathing to quell it.

“I’m quite alright.” Jemma lied through her teeth, avoiding Daisy’s eye by sheathing the knife and placing it aside on the bed as she sat up. Her bruises and stab wound were sore and burning and the dress that Daisy had originally put on her was dry and crusty in the skirt from the blood and there was a hole from the knife. Jemma wasn’t about to ask for another piece of clothing when she’d already been given one and she’d only been on the ship for a day. She was also afraid the only clothes left would be the pants and tops that the women pirates wore with what Jemma deemed an excessive amount of leather. She had never even worn pants. 

Daisy wasn’t oblivious enough to think Jemma was being truthful with her. She knew, also, that a big issue with the kidnapping plan was going to be cabin fever. Daisy wasn’t sure how to counteract that for Jemma. Now would probably be the best time to take her out of the room and for a walk on deck. Most of the crew would be recovering below decks. The ones who had certain kinds of afflictions that allowed them to wear themselves into sleep would be taking over from the few crew unafflicted by the curse, the handful that they’d collected afterward, similar to Kamala and Ace. Those members stayed out of the way of the cursed through the night so they could keep course of the ship and slept in great part during the day locked away in their own bunks. 

“Would you like some air?” Daisy asked, her voice measured nd careful as she watched Jemma closely. “The crew are most likely below decks recovering and getting their fill for the morning…” And they were markedly more reserved and in control of themselves during the day too, most of them anyhow. 

“I’d like that.” Jemma nodded. She put the sheathed knife on the nightstand, trusting she wouldn’t need it around the crew if she was in Daisy’s company. She was the captain so if Jemma was safe with anyone, it was Daisy.    
  
She scooted toward the edge of the bed and even swung her legs over the edge, but when she tried to stand up and put weight on her injured leg she grimaced and sat back down.    
  
“Maybe another time.” Jemma sighed. “I have a lot to discuss with you anyway.”

Daisy gathered her sword belt and tied it on.  She even gathered the pistol from where the butt of it was sticking out from under the edge of the bed. She found Bobbi’s dagger and tucked that into her belt. Then she watched Jemma test her weight on her leg and frowned.  "Are you sure?" She walked closer. "You may lean on me for support?" To take the pressure off her thigh, so she could walk. "We can discuss the same matters out there as we might in here if you'd like?" Daisy offered but she knew that they would have to be careful of certain topics out there. 

“I feel safer in here anyway.” Jemma shook her head to politely turn down Daisy’s offer. Her leg was throbbing and she didn’t think the fresh air would be worth the aggravation to her wound.

Daisy nodded but considered their options inside the room. She grabbed the chair Jemma had been using the day previous from the desk and carried it, with effort, to the window next to the bed. She unlocked the shudders and opened them up, locking them in the open position. It provided a breeze into the room but it would provide more air and sunshine while seated by it and they would be able to prop Jemma’s leg up on the bed as well.    
  
Daisy then walked over to Jemma and crouched. She wrapped an arm around Jemma’s waist and picked Jemma's arm up to pull it around her shoulders. "Don't put any weight on that leg," she said before she helped Jemma up while ignoring the pain in her side. It wasn't as if she'd never been stabbed before after all.  Careful to keep Jemma's weight properly supported, she helped her to the chair and gently helped her prop up her leg. She grabbed an orange and a couple of rolls from the desk and brought them over to offer Jemma since it would likely be awhile before any other food was available. "You had an idea last night," she said. "I'm sorry I wasn't of the proper mindset to listen last night."

“Well that clearly wasn’t your fault.” Jemma shook her head to let Daisy know that she wasn’t to take any blame over her mindset the previous night. All of that was clearly Jemma’s mother’s fault, and she only hoped she could undo it. “What I had wondered is if witchcraft is fundamentally alchemy, which happens to be my greatest interest and the focus of my studies.” Jemma explained. “They both have religious and mystical roots and I believe the two are connected, as my mother and I are both drawn to it.”

Daisy arched her eyebrows and a slightly amused expression crossed her face as she let out a soft, "Ah," as if the revelation that Jemma had areas of study had confirmed something she'd suspected about Jemma before they'd even brought her on board. It wasn't a derogatory or sarcastic sound, just a realization. Her half smile fell away though as she left Jemma with the orange and two of the rolls. She headed back toward the desk, having gone from slight amusement to conflicted and wary. Was it right to push Jemma into the world of witchcraft, knowing the dark roads it could lead? They'd already established that they weren't interested in taking the easy road through murder but would sending Jemma down a powerful path like this be a version of destroying her?    
  
"I confess, I know more of navigation, battle and the turbulent nature of the sea than I do of mysticism and faith," Daisy poured herself a glass from her rum decanter and glanced at Jemma, arching an eyebrow to see if she wanted rum or water. "If I am understanding correctly, you think the curse is somehow linked similarly to the powders, pastes and gels we've learned to create from nature from my mother, through her own mother and so on through the generations?" She asked. "Would that not make me a witch? Or is there something more?" Daisy genuinely didn't know. She'd learned all the things she knew from living on the ship, which did include reading, writing and arithmetic as well as fighting, navigation, hunting, fishing, sailing and the aforementioned remedies. She wasn't the smartest person, she'd grant the to anyone but she waa sure she'd be able to follow Jemma's explanations, or she'd try her best at least, especially when Jemma seemed to want to help them. Granted, it was kind of an ultimatum for her, so it wasn't entirely of her own chiding obviously. Daisy tried not to let her mind get too overactive.

“As much as I hate to abandon my previous faith in scientific fact and only such,” Jemma started, picking at the orange peel and only occasionally looking up, probably too embarrassed about her change of mind to keep eye contact. “There seems to be more to it than mixing ingredients under precise conditions.” She explained. “If killing me could break a curse, it implies some sort of connection to pedigree and bloodline. I predict that a witch’s talents may be inherited by blood, same as my pale skin or your brown hair.” Jemma pondered aloud. There was much to be connected to lineage. Illness could run in families and so could skills, so maybe whatever magical abilities held within a witch were also passed on from mother to daughter.   
  
“Which means that I very well could be a witch. The only question is how am I to learn the trade if there is no text, no source of information?” Jemma posed the question, but did so in a way that suggested that she knew the answer. She smiled at Daisy before popping a slice of orange into her mouth. She chewed slowly, and when she swallowed, her possibly controversial idea came to light. “My mother had an alchemist friend with whom I shared a familiar bond. I suspect she was more than an alchemist. She currently resides in Spain.”

Daisy drank a small sip from her glass as she thoughtfully considered Jemma's initial comments. She set down her glass and started for the cabinet that held her bookshelf. She paused as she heard Jemma's carefully phrased, leading question, glancing at her around the cabinet door. "I see," she turned back to the bookshelf and carefully dug out two decent sized leather bound journals. "So you think our solution lies in us sailing you to Spain to an alchemist, possible witch, that was a friend of your mother’s?"    
  
Daisy didn't say it with any malice, though they both knew it was a tall order. "I might be the ship's captain, but our major decisions are democratic. I'd wager that's a rather tall order to fill," she spoke aloud, reasoning it out as she spoke. "It will take quite a bit of convincing and at least three port stops for proper supplies..." she chewed slightly on her bottom lip.    
  
Walking over to Jemma with the journals in her arms. "These are my mother's logs from the year of my own birth, when she and my father first encountered you father, leading up through a couple of years after the curse took place." She handed them to Jemma but put a hand on top of Jemma's before letting her actually take them. "I do not know if any of the information within may be of assistance...regardless, I know they hold some...unfavorable knowledge of your family. I am sorry for however this may affect you," Daisy grew up a pirate. Her parents had reputations, most tall tales that they'd let circulate to their benefit and were not necessarily true as they were told, but still thrown back in Daisy's face from time to time. She understood the feelings such things could cause to well within.

“Are you saying that breaking your curse isn’t worth convincing and three port stops?” Jemma asked skeptically, pausing her snack and raising a brow at Daisy. She couldn’t help but feel the frustration start to boil in the back of her mind. “I’m happy to read the journals that defame my family in order to get another explanation about what happened from a primary source, but they can’t teach me witchcraft.” She shook her head. It was making things considerably more difficult that Daisy didn’t seem to understand that Jemma needed a teacher, whether it be a person or a book about witchcraft, not just information about the cause of her mother’s anger.    
  
“Now I am willing to accept magic is a reality in this world, but I cannot fathom how I could possibly read this and know how to practice it. That would take a magic of its own,” Jemma started. “If you don’t think finding a source of learning for me is worth the trip, you should just kill me now, because I don’t know the first thing about curses or their breakage and I doubt your mother did either.”

Daisy's face darkened but she didn't respond immediately, and that was purposeful. If Jemma thought it was easy convincing thirty-some odd sailors that prolonging their agony another few weeks (at minimum) was their best option over murdering one person to free their souls from unending torture...Daisy shook her head and stepped back away to her desk.  She picked up her glass, her back to Jemma and slugged back the half filled glass. Even the prospect of another single night of her own affliction was a daunting task to swallow. 

"I don't recall saying it wasn't worth convincing them," Daisy poured herself another glass, three quarters of the way this time. "You must understand that my battle here is to convince my crew that your life is worth more than instantaneous eradication of decades of their agony." She paused and glanced toward the door of the cabin before she finally faced Jemma again. "You witnessed Bobbi last night. You witnessed my own spiral and I'm the one to have mastered the most self discipline over my affliction over the years. You heard their demands banging on the door last night." She took a long breath. "You have to understand that this is a suggestion that needs careful consideration and as much detail as possible for them to even consider allowing it." She couldn't merely tell them to change course and trust Jemma just because Daisy might have developed some measure of trust with her.  Her hands shook a bit at the mere thought of multiple more weeks of the void. Daisy barely held onto her mind fully through the nights anymore. She wasn't entirely sure she'd make it through that much more. She was very much hanging by the skin of her teeth. She slugged back the alcohol and turned around to set the glass down, her shoulders tense with burdens.

“What are we to do then?” Jemma asked, dejected. Every option didn’t seem like a good option and Jemma honestly didn’t know how, had she been the one afflicted with the curse, to convince herself not to end it quickly even at the expense of a life. “Either I learn witchcraft or I die, so if you don’t want to kill me we need to find a way for me to learn.” She reasoned. If Daisy really didn’t want to kill Jemma then she would help her come up with a way.

Daisy frowned for a moment. She wasn’t saying they  _ couldn’t _ or  _ wouldn’t _ make the pitch to the crew. They could make the pitch, absolutely. However, they needed to be convincing about it. Which meant Daisy would need time to compile her thoughts...on very little sleep, after losing a decent amount of blood from her first mate stabbing her in the side the night before. “I’m not saying we can’t make the case for it,” Daisy said. “But I’ll need to make a compelling case in order to gather enough votes for it.” She reached up with a hand to rub at her temples with her thumb and forefinger. A knock came to the door and Daisy crossed to unlock it. She was surprised to find Elena instead of Kamala on the other side with a tray full of food; today it was ham, beans, corn and some more fruit. Elena offered a weary, tired smile but stayed on the other side of the threshold. 

Concerned, Daisy asked, “Is Kamala okay?” almost instantly, worried something might have happened to the younger girl in the night. 

“Of course,” Elena nodded right away. Daisy exhaled in relief. “She’s finishing up some lessons with Bobbi so I volunteered to bring you some food.” She said. Daisy could tell from the look in her eyes that she’d also heard from Bobbi about the night’s events in the cabin and was there to check on them not just drop off food. Elena made discreet glances at the blood stains on the floor of the cabin just past Daisy. Her right eyebrow angled upward very slightly but she made no comments on it, though she made mental notes to send someone to clean the mess later. 

Daisy stepped aside. “This is actually convenient,” she held the door open and shifted to the side to let her in. “We were just talking about Spain. We may need your expertise, if you will?”

“Oh?” Elena arched her eyebrows and stepped into the room. Ace was quickly behind her. He raced in, blurted out a quick hello to Jemma and then raced out with their dirty tray of food from the night before. Elena called after him in Spanish about making sure he got his lessons in with Mack rather than just running off after dropping the mess and dishes in the galley. 

“Jemma, this is Elena,” Daisy introduced. “Elena, Jemma.” 

Elena put the tray down on the desk and turned to Jemma, spotted her bloodied dress and her propped up leg and frowned. Elena and Mack had some similar issues with their nightly affliction that largely left them trying to scratch each other’s insatiable desires to exhaustion, so they hadn’t been pounding on the cabin door the night before and when Bobbi had spoken to her, she hadn’t realized multiple injuries were involved. “What did you do to her??” she asked as she stepped closer to Jemma but then thought better of suddenly rushing the woman and stopped halfway. 

Daisy sighed. “Fell asleep in the crow’s nest while Bobbi was keeping guard. Made it back later after sun down than intended.” She ducked her eyes ashamed. 

Elena looked between them, unsure how to proceed. “How can I help?” 

Jemma had admittedly stiffened when Elena came closer, but she began to realize that Elena must be one of the crew members that was less inclined to kill her, at least during the day. She took a deep breath and settled back into the chair. She wasn’t quite sure what Daisy was doing asking for Elena’s help, but Jemma was willing to go along with it. If Elena was from Spain, she may know more about its culture and the presence of witches.    
  
“Is witchcraft a common practice in Spain?” Jemma asked. If they could find a witch, any witch, maybe Jemma could learn. “Or alchemy maybe?”

Elena glanced between the two of them. Her right eyebrow inclined slightly as she gathered a glass for herself while sitting down so she could pour some rum from the decanter into it. Having already eaten, she didn’t go near the food. “If there are, they’ve likely been in hiding for centuries, to avoid suspicion from the inquisitors,” Elena’s brow furrowed.

Daisy looked toward Jemma. “Do you know where in Spain this possible mentor of yours might reside?” She asked, hoping it was a port city. 

“The last communication we shared came from Bilbao, which I believe is close to the coast.” Jemma informed them, looking to Elena for confirmation. “Do you have an atlas?” It was a silly question to ask of people who traveled the world, Jemma knew, and she found her answer on the bookshelf beside her. She flipped through the pages until she found a moderately large map of Spain and its few surrounding countries and pointed out the city on the northern side of the country.

Daisy went to rifle through the charting maps in rolled scrolls in one of her desk drawers. She came up with some maps of ports for Spain with specific course charts notated on them, including a chart that would let them navigate the river leading to Bilbao's port. Daisy chewed on her bottom lip in contemplation.   
  
"You're going to need papers to dock there without unwanted inspection," Elena told Skye. "We'll need to stop for additional supplies as well," she said.    
  
Daisy nodded. "How long ago was your last correspondence from her?" She asked Jemma.

“I believe the last letter I was sent arrived a week ago, and there was no mention of her changing location. She’s been there for years.” Jemma reasoned. She had to still be there, for all of their sakes. And not only that, but she had to be a witch, Jemma was betting her life on it.

Daisy’s mind was a race of all their options. Option one - Kill Jemma Simmons. Option two - convince the crew that they needed to sail to Bilbao so that Jemma could learn witchcraft from a friend of her mother’s while hoping Jemma didn’t take the opportunity to flee. Option three - Go with option two and if it proved fruitless for Jemma to either learn witchcraft or didn’t find a cure for the curse, plot an escape for Jemma with Jemma’s possible mentor without telling anyone from her crew. Option four - Find some other way to break the curse that didn’t involve any of the other options. Option five - For Daisy...give up, get Jemma to safety then leave the ship at night, let the curse take her soul and let the husk of her body decide how to finally lay down her burdens in the end. A shiver briefly shook down Daisy’s spine as she considered the options. Option three seemed the best route for now with option five as the extreme last resort. 

“I understand this may be the only option, but, I feel it imperative to mention...this course will take an untold amount of time,” Elena spoke up, her voice sober but not unkind, just reminding them carefully. She didn’t mean the course to get them to Bilbao. She meant the whole plan. 

“Yes,” Daisy nodded to indicate that she heard and understood. 

Elena glanced at Jemma, concern pulling at her features before she turned back to Daisy. “I do not suggest this casually, but…” 

“Speak freely,” Daisy reply at Elena’s hesitation. 

“If we proceed with a plan that prolongs the nightfire,” Elena went on gravely, “perhaps there ought to be a plan in place to, ah…” she searched for an appropriate term, “Contains those among the crew who...are less receptive to our previously agreed upon terms of the Lady’s captivity. Those that cannot be trusted to keep their oath,” She glanced at the lingering bruises on Jemma’s face. 

Daisy rubbed at her tired eyelids, rested one arm around her chest, leaned the other elbow on it and leaned her mouth and chin briefly into her hand with a small nod. The gears were churning in her exhausted brain. She nodded. “Yes, I believe you’re right.” She sighed and nodded again. She took a deep breath and looked over at Jemma, wondered what her crew would do to her if Jemma fled once they reached Bilbao. She reminded herself that whatever it was, it couldn’t be any worse than the void. Stepping around the desk, she gathered some particular forms of parchment and writing instrument kits to give to Elena. “Once you’ve caught up on sleep, start working with Mack on the forgeries.”

Elena nodded. “Aye,” She nodded and stood from the desk after drinking back her rum. 

“Check on Bobbi for me? Hunter too. Tell him to make sure she takes it easy today.” Daisy added. “I’ll need to speak with her at midday.” She walked Elena to the door, still working through plans as she unlocked the door. “Spread the word that there will be a meeting in the eve, before sundown, all hands are to be present. Understood?” She knew she didn’t need to ask Elena this but Daisy was exhausted and she needed confirmation after last night. 

“Si, of course,” Elena nodded. She gave Daisy’s arm a light squeeze then looked back at Jemma. “Try to keep eachother out of trouble,” A half smirk curled up her lips before she disappeared out of the room. 

Daisy’s brow wrinkled but she shut the door behind Elena. She turned and trudged through the room, sat down on the edge of her bed next to Jemma’s propped up leg. “I would like to make a deal with you,” She said carefully, eyes weary and a good deal bloodshot, shoulders heavy as she tried her best to hide the lingering self doubt that the void always left behind. 

“Oh really?” Jemma asked curiously, quirking an eyebrow in question. “I was under the impression we already had one.” She caught her bottom lip with her teeth and worried it between them. Their conditions seemed pretty clear: Jemma would learn witchcraft and break the curse and Daisy would return her home safely. It wasn’t very complicated, but then again, when it came to matters of life and limb, things could change in an instant. “What is it?”

“We do,” Daisy nodded, the corners of her lips curving upward just the tiniest bit. She watched Jemma’s face for a few moments then leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees and folded her hands together. “I am of course very sorry about the circumstances surrounding our situations and you should know that I greatly appreciate your willingness to go through with this when you owe us nothing,” she said without looking away from Jemma’s eyes. “Provided the crew can be convinced of the plan to take you to Bilbao, I understand you will be under great stress while learning with your mother’s colleague and to that end, I understand that this is possibly a fruitless effort-,” She held her hand up a moment to correct her phrasing. “Not that I think it will not work but I am conditioned to consider all possible outcomes. So. My deal. In the event that we reach your family friend and she attempts to guide you through what you need to know and we find it is unattainable in the end to break the curse by any other means...I would like to have a contingency plan in place in order that we might engineer a route to safety for you. I do not know this woman’s allegiance to your kin, so I need to know now, before we set forth, whether I will be putting that plan into place myself or with her assistance as she of course will know the surrounding areas better than I,” She exhaled slowly when she finished and continued watching Jemma’s face while she waited for a response. Daisy meant it when she said she didn’t wish to kill Jemma and she needed Jemma to believe it, if they were going to make this work. 

“You mean...” Jemma’s sentence trailed off as she was too busy trying to figure out why Daisy might offer her such a thing to voice her question of confirmation out loud. “You’re not going to kill me if I fail?” She finally asked, dropping the words carefully as if they could get her into trouble or somehow change Daisy’s mind. Instead of waiting to see if that was the case, Jemma started off on a tangent for the ages.   
  
“The woman practically raised me.” Jemma inhaled deeply as she started to ramble. “I’m absolutely positive she would help, of course that’s only if I fail to learn the trade or if May happens to not be a witch at all...” her eyes widened at the suggestion. “Not that I think it’s likely that she wouldn’t be, I truly believe May is a witch, I am just addressing the slim possibility that she isn’t.” Jemma stopped only to take another breath before continuing. “I plan to do my very best to make up for my mother’s and father’s sins and I truly believe that I can do it with May’s help, so I thank you for giving me the opportunity in the first place-“

Daisy wasn’t prepared for Jemma’s ramble. It fact, these were probably the most amount of words she had slung together since they’d met. For a moment, Daisy was powerless to stop them, too busy watching Jemma and wondering how terrible a person she must truly project herself as if Jemma truly believed Daisy was planning on murdering her. On the one hand, she understood that she projected such an aura. On the other hand, for a reason she couldn’t quite pin down exactly, a wave of sadness swept through her that Jemma, specifically, might feel that Daisy  _ wanted _ to kill her. 

When she realized the rambling was actually because Jemma was scared Daisy was going to flip flop about on a whim about whether or not she might kill Jemma if she failed, Daisy slowly reached a gentle hand out and settled it on Jemma’s forearm. “Jemma,” She spoke soft, tone tender and benevolent, much like the tone she’d used while speaking with Kamala the day before. “Thank you for your willingness to help. For what you’ve been put through because of us, already we don’t even deserve that much from you.” Her voice was even and confident - a far cry from the panicked delirium that overtook her through the night - paced to help calm Jemma from the come down of her rambling. “My orders were always that you were to come to no harm. I will do my best to ensure that I don’t fail you again where that is concerned.  Some of my crew agree with me, the ones you have met, though the curse controls them come nightfall and as such they can be very unpredictable, despite their actual desires and morals. Even so, I can only speak for myself. My intentions were never to take the option of murder to end our curse. I would sooner breathe my last breath than allow anyone else to take the matter into their own hands.” When she’d told Jemma that Jemma was alive because she was under Daisy’s protection, she wasn’t kidding. The entire plot to kidnap Jemma in the hopes that she could find a different way to break the curse came into being because she knew some of her crew were beginning to plot for Jemma’s murder after hearing all the rumors about her suitor and possible weddings; they feared Jemma producing offspring and that it might mean their curse was everlasting. 

Daisy’s reassurances calmed Jemma’s nervous ramble and she unconsciously let out a long exhale, slumping back into the seat and placing her hand over Daisy’s on her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze to thank her. They hadn’t started out on the best of terms, but Jemma figured that could have been different if Ward had followed orders. This all could have been different, but that didn’t mean it was too late to make it right. Jemma was confident that she could solve the lasting effects of their parents’ conflicts and free them all from their burdens. They only needed time and effort. 

“Thank you.” Jemma said quietly. “Not just for not killing me,” she added, “for allowing me to know the truth about my parents. And for getting me away from Fitz.” She joked, smiling and squeezing Daisy’s hand again.

Daisy was a bit surprised when Jemma squeezed her hand. Her eyes dropped to where her hand was on Jemma’s arm with Jemma’s on top, as if she needed to see it to believe the contact had occurred. Her eyes rose to Jemma’s as she spoke again. All of it caught her attention but that last part was entirely interesting. She tilted her head and arched her eyebrows slightly, completely unprepared for the odd feeling that stirred within her chest when Jemma smiled at her. She glanced at her desk. “Why don’t I gather our meal and we’ll discuss your distaste for your current suitor further?” She asked. It would provide some relief in the seriousness of it all, provided Jemma wanted to speak of it (Daisy figured she might after that comment) and perhaps they could get through a full meal to fill their bellies. 

Jemma released Daisy’s hand and allowed her to go get their meal while she reflected on her own ordinary life back in Britain. It was painfully dull and boring and Fitz was hardly her idea of marriage material.   
  
“He is one of many suitors,” Jemma began, “but it was his persistence that eventually won my step father over.”

Daisy felt the loss of contact on a greater level than she expected though she made no outward signs of the inner disappointment she felt as she stood from her seat on the bed. She gathered a small end table and the food tray, carried them next to the chair Jemma was in by the window. She set the table down and the tray on top of it, spoons in the bowls of food. She poured them each a glass of water and put those on the table before she pulled her own chair over to join Jemma on the other side of the table. 

“Somehow, this doesn’t surprise me,” Daisy said of Jemma’s correction that there were numerous suitors. She did, however, find that she felt a pang of something at the thought - jealousy perhaps? Daisy dismissed the thought internally as it was childish, all things considered. “Ah, I see...and I take it none of them have won  _ you _ over, clearly?” 

“That is a task that a man has yet to accomplish.” Jemma grinned. She raised her glass and tipped it slightly, like she was toasting to the lack of men in her life. She’d had female companions, make no mistake, they were secrets Jemma would never let slip to anyone who could gossip for fear of tarnishing her family’s name, but they never lasted emotionally. At least they came close, whereas her relationships with men were friendships at their most intimate.

Daisy was glad she hadn’t been sipping her water when Jemma said that. Her right eyebrow arched higher before she could stop it. Were she a dog, this would be the equivalent of one ear popping straight open while she tilted her head. She barely resisted the urge to blurt, ‘do continue,’ and instead raised her glass in mock toast and took a sip of her water. “Sounds awfully lonely,” she said, unsure if Jemma would confirm her allusions. Daisy’d had physical partners. There were a number of years when the meditation and her will power weren’t strong enough and she’d tried a number of methods to survive the void. She used both men and women in desperate attempts to fill the all encompassing void to no avail. She’d never considered any of them to be courtships. Daisy had learned long ago that the void made her too unstable for such luxuries, which she always found bemusing as her singular status helped amplify her ultimate isolation. It was a thus far unbreakable conundrum. Such was the life of a cursed pirate captain, she supposed. “What does Fitz think of your academic pursuits?”

“Fitz would rather me concern myself with learning how to be a good wife.” Jemma practically rolled her eyes as she said it and then dug into her food, taking a few bites before continuing. “I suppose he has a point though, it is a subject in which I am severely lacking.” She pondered, “I’m much too loud, disobedient, and outspoken.” She chuckled.

Daisy grimaced in sympathy and shook her head. She tore open one of the small rolls and stuffed some of the ham into it before taking a bite, fully listening to Jemma speak and swallowing her food before she replied. "I'd argue that these are not traits that would make a terrible wife, but suggesting a person stifle who they actually are would make for a terrible husband." She said. "I was always taught that two should form a collective partnership to complement and support, rather than one forcing tyrannical rule over the other," she supposed it was then ironic that she'd forced Jemma into her current situation, but then, this was a temporary situation and a marriage or anything like it was certainly not involved. "But, despite his approval of Fitz, your Coulson, he approves of your studies?" She assumed it at least, otherwise she assumed he would have put a stop to them. 

“He encourages my endeavors, yes, even if only to keep me busy.” Jemma smiled and took another sip of water. Daisy’s view of marriage was quite intriguing and Jemma could honestly say that she wouldn’t be so opposed to marriage had the relationship she had with a person been more like what Daisy described. It was quite romantic, really, but romanticism wasn’t something common in marriage nowadays.

Daisy had the outside advantage of having a terribly unconventional life, really. The fact that she was wearing pants alone as if it were perfectly natural as evidence of this alone, she figured. "And the woman of Bilbao, May, you said?" She asked between a sip of water. "She raised you before you came to reside with Coulson?" She had many questions, of course, they didn't know each other well even if Daisy had known more about Jemma at the start than Jemma did of her. She wasn't opposed to being interviewed in kind, either, of course but she left it up to Jemma to decide if there were any questions she wanted to ask.

“Oh, no, I’ve always lived with Coulson, even before my mother died.” Jemma answered. Coulson had practically been her father, and she saw him as such, but it hadn’t meant much as of late since he had to force her to marry at some point. “May was very special to my step father after my mother died.” Jemma smiled, fondly remembering what it had been like to have two parents. “It didn’t last.” Her smile disappeared and she took another bite. “What about you, did you know both of your parents?”

Daisy's eyes wandered around Jemma's face while she spoke, wanting to take in all of her features. The more she watched Jemma, the harder it seemed to make herself look away. Her face softened a bit both at the fondness in Jemma's eyes, glad that she'd had a father that was nothing like her biological father (and Daisy had indeed checked into that to be sure) and also at the few hazy memories she had of both her mother and father together. It seemed like every day those happy memories faded a little more, replaced nightly by reminders from the void of what happened to her father because of her childhood follies. She finished chewing a mouthful of food after glancing at her lap for a moment to collect her thoughts.   
  
"I knew them both for different times," she confirmed, unable to stop the sadness that filled her eyes. "What I remember of my father...he was very tall, a stocky, jolly man. He loved to sing and I used to beg him to put me on his shoulder so I could see everything going on when were exploring a port," she dropped her eyes as she set her water glass down. "He died shortly after the curse began," she said, though she didn't divulge that it was her fault that this happened. She couldn't make those words come out.    
  
"My mother lived until I was about your age, a little younger. The curse took her five or so years ago now," she said. "I am lucky to have had her as long as I did and I would not have survived my affliction if it hadn't been for her teaching," of that, she was sure.

Jemma’s eyes softened and she paused her eating to listen intently to Daisy’s story. It all made her feel so much more guilty for her father’s crimes, but it also made her wonder if her father would have been a good parent if he treated children as product, or if even her mother would have been a good parent if she was willing to curse not just the single person who killed her husband, but a whole ship full of children along with him. It almost made her glad she had grown up with May and Coulson. Would her father have been kind to her? Would he have married her off when she was twelve or thirteen like some of her friends? Would he even keep her that long? It made Jemma’s throat burn and her eyes water and she was suddenly jealous of Daisy but also pitied her at the same time.   
  
“I can never apologize enough for the suffering my family has caused yours, but I do hope to make it right for all of us.” Jemma nodded and swiped a tear from her face. The bruises were still sore and she cringed, but hid her emotions and pain by taking another sip of water and looking away from Daisy.

Daisy shook her melancholy thoughts away and straightened a bit in her chair. She gave her head another shake in response to Jemma’s comment. “Let us save our breaths against such apologies. I feel it clear we both regret those things that happened out of our control. You are no more responsible for your parents’ actions than I am for mine. We’ll move forward together, rather than against each other,” she said. It would make for a stronger offense. They didn’t need to be enemies. “That being said, given what I know, I’m glad you had Coulson and May with you growing up,” She held off from saying, ‘rather than your actual mother and father,’ out loud because she wasn’t aiming to insult Jemma, just to express that she was glad Jemma hadn’t been left to be harmed by either her real mother or father. 

“To friendship.” Jemma suddenly raised her glass and held it away from her body in Daisy’s direction. It was no rum, but she figured it was enough to toast to. The situation was vastly different than it had been a day before, and Jemma was willing to accept the alliance with Daisy to free her and her crew from the curse as well as learn a bit more about her family heritage.

Daisy exhaled a startled short snort of laughter. She picked up her glass and held it out to clink it with Jemma’s. “Friendship,” she agreed with a small smile and the first bit of real relief in the last twenty four hours. She took a sip from her glass and set it down. It was all a very strange journey so far. Had she to do it over again, she would have tasked Ward with some other chore and either retrieved Jemma herself or sent Bobbi or Elena to retrieve her. They’d still have struggled to get to this point, she was sure, but at least Jemma wouldn’t have sustained the injuries she’d suffered at Ward’s hand. Perhaps the stab wound wouldn’t exist either. It didn’t matter now, things had happened how they had but even so. “Tell me,” She said as she reached for the her small bowl of beans, stirring them with the spoon that was in the bowl. “If you didn’t have to decide on a suitor, what would you do with the rest of your life?” 

“I would have pursued alchemy and education, eventually working toward scientific discoveries.” Jemma smiled at the thought. It had always been a pipe dream, since it was highly frowned upon for women to seek higher education past what is needed to be a good housewife. “Maybe I would have discovered witchcraft in my alchemy pursuits.” She chuckled. She had never believed in fate, but maybe it was her destiny to learn her family’s trade. “What about you? Ever want to do anything besides be a pirate?”

Daisy thought it over for a moment but was a little disappointed to find that she really didn't have an answer. Her life has been spent just trying to survive the night. There wasn't time or energy even for mental pursuit of 'what ifs,' she supposed.  "I fear I've not much had the opportunity to consider any other path along the way. I'd wager I'm a bit of an old dog as well, so if this all works...I very well don't know what comes after." Saying it out loud felt a lot like confirming the void still existed beyond her freedom from its shackles. 

“Maybe you will have the opportunity.” Jemma said quietly. She hoped it was more than a maybe. She needed to make sure that Daisy and the others would finally be free to leave the ship at night, to actually have the chance to do something other than what Jemma had judged them so harshly for. Failure wasn’t an option.


	4. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** Don't think there are any for this chapter actually
> 
>  
> 
> Here we go 'round again!  
> <3
> 
> __________________________

The next few days were very trying. With Bobbi and Elena’s help,  Daisy had successfully argued the case for sailing to Bilbao so Jemma could work with May on the witchcraft plan. It was a tight vote, but they made it. There were multiple pit stops needed before they could go to Bilbao, though. They were smaller ports, to avoid calling attention to themselves so they had less supplies, which meant more stops. They also had limited time for loading, daytime hours only. Once Daisy was sure they had enough food, water, alcohol, medical and ingredients for the various concoctions Daisy’s mother had taught them to make to help with their afflictions or the aftermath of their afflictions, plus some new clothes and supplies for Jemma, they set sail for Bilbao.   
  
Daisy felt uneasy as the course was set and she started the dreary day navigating. Storms had set upon them, making the sea a bit more turbulent. It was nothing Daisy and the crew hadn't dealt with before,  it just felt like an ominous omen. In the late afternoon, Daisy had stopped in the galley to gather snapper soup, rolls and fruit from Trip and to check that Kamala and Ace were about to tuck in for the night before the sun was down.  She returned to her cabin with the food and a refill of her rum and their water. She put it down on the table next to the desk and then went to barricade them inside the room.   
  
"I brought some ginger tea with me," Daisy nodded to the tray of food. "I wasn’t sure if the extra rocking might have upset your stomach," she dropped the cross bar and turned to make her way back toward the desk.   
  
Jemma perked up when Daisy came into the room and folded a ribbon into the page of her current book (a random choice off of Daisy’s shelves) so she wouldn’t lose her place. She set it aside and sat up straighter in the chair, already eying the tea and snack.   
  
“I have been trying to pay it no mind,” Jemma started, “but thus far my attempts have been unsuccessful. So thank you.” She smiled and reached for the cup with the tea in it to settle her stomach.

Daisy smiled as she sat down across from Jemma. "It should hopefully clear by morning," she said. "I admit, the swaying is second nature for me. I feel more unsteady when we're docked in port, and not even because of the time constraints," she chuckled softly. "I suppose that'll be something new to get used to perhaps," in the future, if they succeeded. She'd never been on land long enough to get used to the steady feeling. She wondered if it was even something she'd enjoy getting used to or not.

“For that I would be grateful.” Jemma said, referring to the hopeful disappearance of the storms. Night was slowly creeping up on them and she was trying desperately to prepare herself to see Daisy as she always was at night. It made her heart ache and her shoulders heavy with the burden of knowing that it was on her to make it all stop. She didn’t want any of the crew to suffer so much, but she had a soft spot for Daisy specifically and it made her even more motivated to find a solution every night.   
  
“When do you suppose we’ll arrive at Bilbao?” Jemma asked. She wanted to get to work as soon as possible but didn’t know where to start without May’s help.

“From here, I’d say probably another four days likely,” Daisy said. “Less if we could take normal passages, but we’re skirting around the edges to keep a low profile and avoid unwanted attention,” She explained. “Of course that’s entirely dependent on the wind as well.” She added.

The closer night crept, the quieter their dinner became. Once they finished and set the empty dishes aside, Daisy began the nightly routine. She hung her gun and sword belt away in one of the wall cabinets, went behind the small changing screen to change into more comfortable sleep pants and shirt, brushed the knots from her hair and tied it up on the top of her head. She double checked the door locks and drop bar and then moved to the corner by the shackles. The sun was still setting when she crossed her legs one inside the other, straightened her back, let her hands rest on her knees and her elbows where they fell and began her meditation ritual with a careful breathing intervals and attempting to clear her mind as best as possible. Soon she’d have to shackle her ankle in and tuck in for a restless night of keeping her darkest thoughts at bay while failing to get actual restful sleep. By the time the sun came up, still feeling overwhelmed by the lingering feelings of the void, she’d usually pass out and sleep for the first hour or two of the day. After that, she’d have to make her way around the ship, ensure they were still on course while also checking on the rest of her crew and how they’d done in the night.

Daisy tried her absolute best to make sure she wasn’t like the first night Jemma had been on the boat. It was extremely difficult considering the added stress of being locked inside a room with someone the void kept trying to convince her to kill for her own freedom’s sake. Daisy was not as rash and impulsive as she may have seemed, given her profession. She breathed deeply and tried to clear her mind of thoughts of her and Jemma and their situation, of thoughts of everything really.

Jemma also changed, but into a clean nightgown Daisy had provided her with instead of her bloodied one from home. Normally she would have felt strange in her night clothes in front of a stranger, but they weren’t exactly strangers anymore. It made her sad and filled her with dread to see Daisy preparing for the night. It was always the same; Jemma slept with her dagger for self protection and Daisy had a miserable night shackled up in the corner. It made Jemma feel incredibly guilty and she was finally done letting Daisy go on this way.   
  
“I refuse to completely take over your bed space when you’ve been so kind.” Jemma started, unsure if she would even be able to convince Daisy to go to sleep in the bed or if she would even be able to sleep if she did accept. “Please, come lay down.”

Daisy was in the process of arranging the shackle on her ankle when Jemma spoke. She blinked, a bit startled by the request. She glanced away, down at the iron shackle she was about to affix to her leg on top of a cloth wrap that had been tied around her skin to keep it from chaffing. She would have been lying if she tried to say she didn’t miss her bed, that was true enough. However, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself to be within arm’s length of Jemma when the void took over and eventually it always did take over. She didn’t know that it would be a good idea sleeping next to Jemma for other reasons as well, ones she didn’t want to acknowledge but for the slightly pink glow to her cheeks. She shook her head when she finally looked up, doing her best to resist the temptation. “No,” she spoke softly. “It’s not safe.” she tried to resist and to remind Jemma why it had to be this way.

“I trust you.” Jemma countered. She pat the bed beside her and tried to give Daisy a warm smile, but her heart was actually beating wildly in her chest. “And if anything happens, I have the dagger. But nothing will happen.” She tried to reassure Daisy. Daisy hadn’t lunged against the shackles to get to her at night after the first night, so she didn’t see why Daisy was doubting her self control.

Daisy felt something tug in her chest that she found she couldn’t actually describe and it wasn’t just the way her heartbeat picked up when Jemma asserted that measure of trust. She still weighed the option heavily. It would be reckless. Daisy exhausted her will power fighting against the dark thoughts that filled her mind, her heart, ran straight clear through her soul most nights. It would be reckless and impulsive to take Jemma’s offer for her own selfish motives. Still, Daisy set the shackle aside and hesitated. “How can you be so sure?” She asked, moving only to her feet, where she shuffled momentarily, her last attempt to hold back from the invitation as she eyed up the spot on her own bed that Jemma was patting beside her.

Jemma shifted on the bed, crossing her legs under the nightgown and tilting her head to the side, just watching as Daisy so hesitantly moved toward her. She asked what made Jemma so confident and she smiled sadly because of her reason.   
  
“Because I believe you wish for me to live more than you desire to break your own curse.” Jemma stated quietly. “And because you are stronger than my mother.”

Daisy wanted to tell Jemma that her own show of confidence was a sham, just a show put on because she knew it was what the crew needed because she knew she had to keep them together because she couldn’t afford the guilt of losing another. But Jemma was right in part of what she said; Daisy did wish for her to live more than her desire to break the curse. It was the one conviction she had stubbornly held onto, that her mother had reminded her of over and over and over again until it was so readily reflexive and second nature that she didn’t actively have to think about it. Jiaying had done it on purpose, Daisy was now realizing, as she must have known a situation like this was bound to happen after she was gone. She’d left Daisy with the skills she needed to survive because she knew how much Daisy would need them but were they enough to really resist those thoughts that kept creeping into her mind over the last few nights?

Daisy mentally fought with herself all the way to the edge of the bed. No matter how hard she’d tried, even if she hadn’t lashed out from her corner, the thoughts had pushed into her mind through the night...about how much easier it would be if she gave in and killed Jemma. They’d be free, all of them. It wasn’t Jemma’s fault…but it hadn’t been her crew’s fault either. She wouldn’t have to make Jemma suffer even though all of the crew had, no. She could make it quick, painless. Jemma would never know it happened. She would just never wake from her slumber and the emptiness inside Daisy would be vanquished forever. The thoughts were there already, so early in the night. Daisy worried that Jemma wouldn’t have it in her to use that dagger if Daisy did lose the battle against her demons. She wavered a little bit, caught between climbing in and rushing back to her corner even if it made her look like a scared dog, a motion brought on from the extra rum she’d had to drink during dinner, another new nightly attempt to exhaust her brain into forced sleep.   
  
“I fear you’re underestimating the danger you’re playing with,” Daisy whispered and _almost_ licked her lips though she held off. There was a delicate balance between Daisy and the husk of Daisy the void left behind. Could she really risk it with so much on the line?

“I’m about to become a witch. Maybe I already am one.” Jemma said suddenly. It seemed off topic, but it had everything to do with her newfound ability to walk into harm’s way. “The rest of my life will be dangerous. You, however, are the one person I trust will try to protect me.” She explained. Her hand shot out, open palm up and close enough to Daisy for her to take her hand. “Trust yourself.”

Daisy’s eyes shot down to Jemma’s hand as it shot toward her. She didn’t flinch or move in reaction to it. Jemma very well could have used the dagger in that moment to kill her (much as she could have at any point over the last handful of nights as well) and Daisy wouldn’t have physically reacted. She’d promised herself after everything that first day and night Jemma was on the ship that she wouldn’t grab at Jemma in a threatening way again if she had control over it. Even as she finally lost the fight of willpower to pull away and reached for Jemma’s hand, it wasn’t herself she was trusting but Jemma’s judgement. She was careful as she climbed into the bed, to stay on the open side of it and not crush in too close to Jemma, even if the idea of it seemed enticing. Daisy could scarcely hear anything over the loud thrumming of her own heartbeat in her ears. She held the last breath she took, afraid to let it out, afraid any little thing might suddenly trigger the void-husk Daisy  and set her off. This was counterproductive since one of the biggest things she used to regulate this kind of thing...was her controlled breathing techniques.

“See, it’s not so bad.” Jemma spoke in the calmest, most reassuring way she could and gently pushed at Daisy’s shoulder to get her to lie down with her. They were facing each other on the bed, both laying on their sides, and Jemma reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Daisy’s ear and ended up brushing her cheekbone with her thumb, too intrigued by the woman in front of her to move her hand away. She swallowed a lump in her throat and finally did pull away, but settled her hand on the bed near Daisy in case her pirate captain friend was inclined to touch her.

Oh, Daisy was definitely inclined to touch Jemma, but she didn’t dare it. Her pupils were so wide they engulfed her irises even in the dark. Daisy couldn’t escape the curse. There just wasn’t a loophole. It filled her chest, heavier than the erratic heartbeats, pulled at her muscles to act against everything she knew to be right and true in the world. A tremor she was powerless to stop rolled down her spine at the electricity that  Jemma’s touch brought. Her hand fell to the bed so near Jemma’s that they just barely grazed as Daisy’s was trembling under the strain. She swallowed against the terrible thoughts, ones she wished would stop pointing out on the one hand that she needed to break the curse and on the other that she really wanted to kiss Jemma seeing as they were so close in that moment. “Promise you won’t hesitate, if I-,”

Jemma didn’t hesitate. Her fingers curled on the sheets and her hand passed over Daisy’s, settling on top of it as her head moved from the pillow. Everything in Jemma’s head told her to stop, to lean back, but everything in her body and heart told her not to hesitate like Daisy said. She surged forward, bumping their noses together on accident in her rush to get to Daisy’s lips, which her own met in a quick manner that left her holding her breath, unsure if Daisy would respond with mutual enthusiasm or if she would pull away.

Daisy wasn’t prepared at all for that kiss. Her body stiffened a moment, held her perfectly still for a few frenzied heartbeats before she could actually shake anything loose to react. Her eyes slipped shut and she was drawn toward Jemma as her lips pulled in turn against hers. The sudden way the kiss occurred proved enough to throw Daisy’s restraint off long enough that she couldn’t quite seem to pull herself together and pull away like the warning shouts in the back of her mind kept suddenly telling her to. _No, you can’t!_ They shouted at her from the darkness at the back of her mind. _This is no game we can play. Stop! Stop!_ But Daisy couldn’t make herself stop. Instead she shifted closer, her hand working free from the bed and instinctively reached for Jemma’s waist. If she thought her heart was racing before, it was triple timing it now.

For a split second, Jemma wondered what this might mean for her. She could see an entire future play out on the backs of her eyelids and it was entirely enjoyable, much more so than a forced marriage with Fitz and a career of child rearing. She saw herself staying on the ship, actually friends with everyone, with the curse broken and nothing to stop any of them from doing what they wanted. But then, she remembered the curse, and in a moment of sheer panic she remembered that Daisy might have only started to kiss her back because of the void and her desperate loneliness. It was entirely possible that Jemma was taking advantage of Daisy and she pulled back, chest heaving and frowning, wondering what Daisy would think of this in the morning.  
  
“I- I’m sorry, I...” Jemma didn’t have an excuse. She’d wanted to kiss Daisy so she did, there was no excuse.

With no filter to read this sudden retraction through but her very clouded vision through the void,  Daisy immediately read the situation incorrectly as soon as her body recovered from the swift recoil of Jemma's touch. A good deal dazed but with only negative scolding of herself for her failure to control herself, Daisy right away began to shift back toward the edge of the bed to put distance between them.  A single dart of her eyes to the corner she'd been previously confined in the only clue she was about to flee the bed as she shook her head and stammered. "N-no, it's not your...It’s my...I shouldn't...I'm sorry, I'll just-," She only made it part way out of the bed, her foot barely on the ground as she ducked her eyes downward, ashamed of herself the longer her brain outlined all the reasons she knew better.

“No, wait!” Jemma cut off Daisy’s mumbling and her hand shot out to grab Daisy’s before she could go anywhere. “Stay. Please.” She did her best to make eye contact with Daisy and her cheeks flushed pink. The lingering feeling of Daisy’s lips on hers and the faint taste of alcohol, specifically rum, made Jemma’s brain hazy with want, but she knew she couldn’t, not at night. She honestly just wanted Daisy to get a good night’s sleep for once, so she tugged on her hand to get her back in the bed. “We can go to sleep.”

Daisy closed her eyes when she felt Jemma's hand on hers. Against her better  judgment, and possibly motivated by the selfish want to sleep in her own bed and not alone for the first time in...she couldn't remember the last time actually. Daisy was careful to move slow as she settled back into the bed. Her eyes clenched shut tight and she began to take long, slow breaths in through her nose,  out through her mouth, each wound up shaking as she tried to even her pulse out, to quiet her mind, to fight off the wanton urges she now felt intensely coursing through her. Her teeth ground tight as her thoughts fought not to be coaxed away with breathing techniques.

“That’s it, easy.” Jemma brushed her thumb over Daisy’s knuckles and gave her hand a squeeze, trying to help her calm down and regretting getting her worked up in the first place. Admittedly, Jemma was quite tired herself and ready for the both of them to fall asleep. It showed on her face as she yawned and her eyes started to droop. She hoped it would be easier for Daisy to relax once she was asleep and knew she couldn’t wait up until Daisy fell asleep (since it might not happen) so she allowed herself to start to drift off. “Goodnight, Daisy.” She murmured, eyes closed.

"G'night," Though she whispered it, Daisy's voice was still strained, even as Jemma's gentle touches lingered on her skin. It would have been so much easier to have just given in and interrupted Jemma’s earlier retreat by surging forward to restart their kiss. Daisy knew it would have provided extremely temporary relief from the all-encompassing emptiness that filled her, reminded her that I would always be this way, that eventually she wouldn't be strong enough to fight it, that her defenses would break down and crumble. Daisy knew that giving in to that carnal want would only be a selfish excuse to scratch the itch. She had been down this road many times before and all it amounted to was using a person for a fleeting respite and that was not something she wanted to allow herself to do with Jemma.   
  
So instead, Daisy watched as Jemma fell asleep, listened to the soft sounds of Jemma's steady breaths as they gusted against her cheek and chin while mingling with the sounds of the sea lapping against the side of the boat, with the regular creaking of various joints of the boat as it moved through the water. Long after she was sure that Jemma was asleep, Daisy reached a shaky hand out to tuck her hair behind her ear and graze her knuckles along Jemma's cheekbone. Without having meant to, the action caused Jemma to shift and before Daisy knew it, the two were halfway wound around each other under the covers.   
  
The raging war inside Daisy became a vicious force to be reckoned with at that point. Dueling spirals of thought battled it out to win over Daisy's mind and influences her actions. The inklings of doubt and insecurity were the loudest, the hardest to ignore. The thoughts that this was only happening because she was Jemma's captor and her main point of contact while she'd been kidnapped, that Jemma was playing the long con, waiting for Daisy to relax before she struck, that even if this wasn't either of those things, this situation was temporary and in the end, Daisy would return Jemma to her home town and Jemma would leave her life forever. Even without the curse, Daisy could understand the void that would leave in its wake. She couldn't take this path, it was much too dangerous given the task at hand for them both.   
  
Daisy spent the night trying not to move, fearing Jemma might pull away if she did. She struggled to retain control of her breathing and her calm, centered thoughts. But it wasn't until the sun was coming up and Jemma had started to stir  against her side that exhaustion finally claimed Daisy. Most of her muscles sagged in defeat. Her breath wasn't entirely even but her face was drawn, heavy dark circles under her eyes, deep creases in her forehead and gravity pulling the corners of her mouth down like anchors, unable to escape the lingering doubt and dread from the void despite morning's approach and release.

Jemma slowly woke after the sun rose, but not immediately entering a fully conscious state. She was aware that the swaying from the storm had lessened and she felt less seasick and that she was currently blissfully comfortable, but she didn’t register that the reason for it was her arm wrapped around Daisy’s waist, holding her close, and that her face was tucked into Daisy’s shoulder. It was keeping her warm and comfortable and she wasn’t apt to move, at least not until she woke fully.   
  
When Jemma did finally wake, it was quite sudden. She realized exactly where she was and who she was snuggling in her sleep and her cheeks flushed a bright red as she shot up in the bed, sitting up and removing her arms from Daisy to keep them to herself.   
  
“Sorry, I, uh... sorry.” Jemma mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with Daisy, apologizing again for her feelings.

Daisy wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been asleep, but it felt like it had barely been minutes when the bed suddenly jostled. Daisy wasn't a particularly deep sleeper to begin with but with the heightened stress of Jemma’s presence on the boat and keeping her protected from harm  through the nights, she was even less a spun sleeper than normal. So she bolted almost immediately upright as soon as her brain registered the jostling, reaching for her waistband reflexively only to come up empty. "What? What is it?" Her bloodshot eyes were only half open and there were still vast, dark circles surrounding them. Fearing someone had gotten in, Daisy pushed out of bed to her feet somewhat unsteadily and twisted to looking around the room in alarm. "What happened?" She asked, her brain not quite up to speed, pupils still wide from the nightly affliction and the haunted reflection still visible in them from the ordeal.

“N-nothing.” Jemma stammered, trying to cover for herself. If Daisy hadn’t realized Jemma had accidentally sleep snuggled her she was apt to leave it that way, as it was highly embarrassing and she still didn’t know how Daisy actually felt.

Daisy’s brow furrowed. Her shoulders slumped slightly as the small spike of adrenaline waned away. “Oh,” She swayed slightly on her usually steady feet. “Okay...” She arched her back and stretched but it caused the blood to rush from her head and she immediately had to turn and sit down on the edge of the bed. She dropped her head forward and began to rub her temples but quickly moved to rubbing at her closed eyelids. The dizzy spell was pretty strong and even made her sway slight after she was seated.

“Are you alright?” Jemma asked, placing a gentle hand on Daisy’s back and rubbing small circles. This was friendly, this was safe. There was no harm in comforting Daisy if she was sick from the last night’s drink.

Daisy exhaled a shaky breath when she felt the touch. Her brow creased and she closed her eyes for a quick second, trying to fight through the fog. She could feel the sour unease churning in her gut and tried to mentally will the agitated organ to settle down. “Just uh...just a head rush is all,” She lied. She didn’t expect Jemma to believe it. She knew some things were just outwardly visible, especially after multiple rough nights. The extra rum hadn’t been a great idea but it was about the only thing they really had on hand that she could use to try and tire her body out in hopes that it overpowered the curse’s plague on her mind to let her sleep. She turned slightly after rubbing at her face once more and looked over her shoulder toward Jemma. “A-About last night-,”

Jemma opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could get that far there was a heavy knock on the door that caused Jemma to jump, leaning further back into the wall on the bed.   
  
“You should get that, make sure everyone’s ok.” Jemma said quietly. She wanted to talk about what happened the night before, but it also could be best leaving things be.

Daisy's shoulders drooped. She nodded and without a word, pushed herself to her bare feet and went to the door. She pulled up the drop bar and with the key that rested on a long chain around her neck, undid the locks. Daisy was expecting to see Bobbi, if not then perhaps Elena or Kamala. Instead she was greeted with a rather grim faced Lance Hunter. He balked at her when the door swung open revealing her face, a frown settling further into his features.  
  
"Ya look like shite," Hunter blurted before he leaned slightly to the side to look over past her shoulder to get a glimpse at Jemma. "Keepin' ya up all hours, is she?" He arched his eyebrows.  
  
Normally, Daisy would have been happy to trade joking barbs with Hunter but something in his face when she first opened the door prevented her from doing so. "What happened?" She asked him, her grave tone cutting through the opening jest immediately.   
  
Hunter straightened. "Bob's had a rough night," his voice softened a bit but then his jaw clenched and he glanced past Daisy's shoulder toward Jemma again, his face much darker this time.   
  
"Focus," Daisy shoved Hunter’s shoulder to knock him out of his mini fugue state. "What happened?" She asked to get more details. She backed into the room and ignored the wave of nausea the hit her as she rushed to her desk. When they'd stopped in port she'd made sure to acquire all the ingredients necessary to make larger batches of the, various gels, creams and pastes her mother had taught her to make long ago to help others the aftermath of the curses cruel punishments. The same green gel that had been used to reduce Jemma's scrapes and bruises from Ward’s beating was used to help Bobbi’s scratch wounds heal. Fearing that Bobbi had worse wounds than normal, Daisy grabbed both the green gel and the red paste that she'd used to seal the stab wound on Jemma’s leg and had been used on her own side.   
  
Hunter stepped into the room after Daisy and cautiously side eyed Jemma, unsure if he wanted to answer Daisy in front of her. He frowned, more than a bit overly protective of Bobbi even though they fought like cats and dogs all the time to begin with.   
  
"Hunter!" Daisy called out as she tugged her sword belt on and tied it, trying to snap Hunter out of it. "What happened?" She dropped the jars into a pouch and rushed back around the desk, not bothering with clothing changes or putting boots on. Moving around the boat barefoot wasn't anything new to her. Daisy glanced at Jemma then looked to Hunter, frustrated with his silence. "Take me to her, now," she glanced once more at Jemma before she rushed out after Hunter, feeling like shit that she had to race away and lock Jemma in by herself, even if it was for her own protection.

The way Hunter looked at Jemma made her blood run cold and an uncomfortable shiver run down her spine. He would be one of the people Jemma did her best to avoid because of his obvious views on the solution to the curse. She had seen it in his eyes that he was thinking about it, despite Daisy being in the room and despite it being daytime. That meant he was on the list with Ward instead of the list with Daisy, Kamala, Ace, and maybe Bobbi, since her attempt on Jemma’s life hadn’t been of her own abolition.   
  
When Daisy left, Jemma just sat on the bed for a few minutes, trying to control her breathing. She was locked in the room once again, and she was starting to go a bit stir crazy. She began to keep herself busy by getting up and dressing herself in a new, but still comfortable and simple, dress Daisy had gotten for her during one of their stops. It would make her blend in better when they went to find May.   
  
It wasn’t long after that that there was a knock on the door, and it made Jemma frown. Had it been someone with a key, like Daisy, they would have just entered. Jemma got up out of the chair by Daisy’s desk and made her way to the door, where she pressed her ear against it and tried to listen for whoever was outside.   
  
“I can’t open the door.” Jemma shook her head and called out like they could see her. The voice that replied made her heart rate skyrocket and made her more aware of her aching body and face than she had been before.   
  
“If I were you I would consider it a blessing.” Ward said calmly.   
  
“What do you want?” Jemma asked. She shouldn’t even entertain him, she knew, but something kept her frozen in place, unable to leave the door.   
  
“I want you to know that even though Daisy’s gone soft, the rest of us will still find a way to kill you if you can’t fix this.” He growled, causing the hair on the back of Jemma’s neck to bristle. “Consider this motivation.” He said, and then he was gone. Heavy footsteps moved away from the door and Jemma released the breath she didn’t know she was holding and slid down the door, sitting in front of it and rubbing her temples, elbows on her knees. If she couldn’t break the curse, even if Daisy tried to smuggle her out, the others, if there were enough of them, could still overwhelm Daisy and kill her to break the curse. Despite Daisy’s promise, Jemma knew her life was still at risk.

Daisy was gone for quite some time. Bobbi hasn't been the only one that needed attention. Hunter had actually needed it but hadn't spoken up until a barely conscious Bobbi had told Daisy that he needed help. Daisy had to force Mack and Elena to keep him still while she worked on wounds along his back, chest and legs where, nightly, all manner of pests burrowed leaving him to pick then free from festering sores come morning. Bobbi normally took care of this for him after he patched her up but she wasn't able to this morning. After checking on the rest of the others and providing what little comfort she could, succumbing to the leftover morose feelings from the void with each new crew member she helped.   
  
Kara seemed to have it the worst on this morning. Nightly, her joints twisted and swollen, curling into extreme, crippling arthritic knots. It seemed on this night, Ward had gotten hold of her toward the beginning of the night and a fight with her turned into violently taking out his agressions on her sexually. On normal evenings there were often numerous preventative measures taken to ease her arthritic pain, like oral opiates and a number of mixed anti-inflammatories crushed, mixed to paste and applied to her skin as well as ingested. It wasn't abnormal for Kara and Ward to blow off steam together intimately, but it was abnormal for it to be forced.   
  
Daisy took her time with Kara today, doing everything possible to take as much of her pain away as possible. Eventually they'd given her enough to put her to sleep and Daisy left Mack and Elena in charge of watching over her. She took Trip, some of Ward's own buddies and went hunting the ship for Ward. It was only after he was locked away in their brig cell in the bowels of the ship did Daisy return to her quarters. She reached the door and for a moment just gently leaned her forehead forward on it and took some long, quiet, controlled breaths.   
  
Eventually, she pulled her key and undid the locks. When she went to push the door, however, something blocked it. "...Jemma?" She called out, just loud enough to be heard through the door crack, concern in her tone.

Jemma quickly swiped away her tears and rubbed at her wet eyes and damp cheeks with her sleeve, trying to rid herself of any sign that she’d been crying. It was cowardly, to cry after a threat like that when she was safe behind a locked door, but she was still overwhelmed to be locked in the same room for weeks and not be able to leave it for fear of attack. Part of her wanted to go home, but she knew that would be a prison too, so she hoped there were answers in Spain.   
  
Jemma quickly scrambled to her feet and stepped away from the door, sniffling and moving to sit in Daisy's chair with a book so she didn’t seem as though she’d broken down in front of the door.

It was difficult, even barefoot, on the ship to not make noise unless you were slowly purposefully trying to sneak up on someone. Daisy had been on this boat since her birth. When noises were uncommon, her ears picked them out immediately. The door gave way and Daisy pushed it open and stepped in the threshold. She paused a moment, the sole of her foot pressed into the warm spot on the other side of the threshold. She glanced at her foot, canting her head to a slight angle. Her eyes traveled the length of the floor to her desk and to Jemma sitting in Daisy’s chair with one of the many books they’d been spending time studying. She thought she heard a sniffle and as she looked further, she spotted the telltale sign of uneven breathing that came after a good cry along with dark, puffy eyelids. Stepping inside, Daisy shut the door gently behind her but didn’t lock it. She felt safer doing this since she knew Ward was confined multiple decks below.

Her mind was churning away, as always. She was quite a bit shaken by what she’d seen of Kara and that Ward had even crossed such a line. He was, admittedly, a very bitter, angry, morally ambiguous person, but when you grow up with someone, you think you know what they’re capable of at their worst...this was beyond that. As she’d started thinking about it, she realized that Lance’s pest wounds were much worse than normal; there were larger patches of them on his skin, imbedded deeper and far more seriously infected that usual. Bobbi’s scratch wounds were deeper, done with more and sharper instruments than usual despite her hands and feet having been contained with special gloves and boots for this purpose. Everyone afflicted seemed to be having escalations in their affliction. Daisy could attest to this because her burden had been greatly increased since Jemma’s arrival. Previously she had attributed this to her guilt for forcing her crew (essentially her family) to endure more pain because of her own moral stance that Jemma not be harmed. Now, she was wondering if something else was happening. Was it possible the curse had been engineered to magnify or amplify if they started to find a solution to stripping it away? Was that something that was possible?

Her brow was furrowed as she set her pouch down on the desk. She glanced at the cabinet that held her mother’s journals, wondering if she’d missed something in her multiple readings through them. Daisy shook her thoughts free. She needed to focus on Jemma. Something was wrong. As she had drawn to the desk, she could confirm that Jemma had indeed been crying. “Did something happen?” She asked, very much afraid of the answer. The door had been locked but Daisy knew that her crew knew the ship almost as well as she had, there was one secret they didn’t know, though and she was considering telling Jemma about it after the revelation of what happened in the night with the crew. She worried, as well, that Jemma might be crying because of what happened between them in the night.

“No, nothing.” Jemma lied. She didn’t want to cause any more fighting between Daisy and the crew by telling Daisy the truth because the more they fought, the less power Daisy had over them, which meant it was less likely Jemma would survive. So she stayed quiet about Ward’s threat and flipped the page in the book to appear as though she had been reading even though she hadn’t absorbed a word of what was on the page.

Daisy felt herself frown. Was she allowed to call Jemma’s bluff considering Jemma hadn’t called hers when she’d asked how Daisy was earlier and Daisy lied? Were there actually rules they needed to follow to make things work other than ‘We are not murdering Jemma,’ of course. She watched Jemma’s eyes bounce around the page without a pattern to their movement, like a steady back and forth movement that was to be expected when someone was actually reading. Daisy moved around the desk and reached out to gently pull the book free from Jemma’s grasp. Shutting it, she set it on the desk and gently reached out to tucked some of Jemma’s hair behind her ear, her knuckles and thumb grazing along Jemma’s cheek as she did. She held both her hands out to Jemma then and said, “Take a walk with me.” Daisy didn’t know what had caused the crying but she knew the kind of hell confinement could cause a person  - she was confined to the boat from sundown to sunup since she could remember. That wasn’t to say that this ship wasn’t her home, but knowing that her leaving it for land at night wasn’t a possibility at all placed a very specific psychological toll on a person. She worried now that she’d waited too long to take Jemma on a walk out of the cabin and had underestimated the toll given Jemma’s specific situation. Now she sought to provide some sort of remedy to ease whatever specific things were weighing on Jemma’s mind

Jemma reached out with one hand to take Daisy’s, immediately wanting more of that comforting touch, but just before their fingertips met Jemma hesitated and pulled her hand back, shaking her head. “I really shouldn’t.” She tried to convince Daisy without going into specifics. She was afraid to be around the others, even during the day and while by Daisy’s side. “I’m not welcome.”

Daisy knew the risks involved. She also knew that those affected by the curse on her crew were still recovering. Ward was locked away and his buddies were less inclined to follow his bad behaviors for the time being because of what happened. Jemma didn’t know this, of course, so Daisy understood why she hesitated. “Do you trust me?” Daisy asked without pulling either of her hands away. Last night, Jemma had shown a great deal of trust in Daisy where Daisy hadn’t trusted herself at all. There was another factor to leaving the room, sure, but the question was important and she wasn’t just going to give up because Jemma thought she wasn’t welcome.

“I do.” Jemma nodded earnestly. She eyed Daisy’s hands for another few moments and reached out to take them in the next. Daisy would do her best to protect her and Jemma couldn’t stay in the cabin forever, so it was time for her to get up and walk around.

Daisy offered up a small but genuine smile as she stood up. Before moving though and without giving it a great deal of overthought, Daisy used Jemma’s hands to pull her in. She let go and wrapped her arms around Jemma to pull her into a firm hug. She wrapped an arm tight around Jemma’s middle and reached up to cradle the back of Jemma’s head to hold onto her for at the very least a few moments. She knew Jemma was isolated. She knew Jemma had been crying. She really hoped it wasn’t because of their kiss or the way Jemma had snuggled into her in the night because she just wanted to offer up some form of comfort, more than she thought a walk could do and enough to try and reassure her in some way when she clearly didn’t want to discuss the details of her distress with Daisy. Daisy wanted to help, but she didn’t want to force Jemma to let her (other than the fact that she wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer about the walk).

Jemma exhaled heavily and held onto Daisy as though the world might end if she let go. It was all too comforting to hug Daisy like this. Logic told her it wasn’t best to get close to her technical kidnapper, but she couldn’t see anything but good that could come out of being close with Daisy, so she accepted the hug and made sure she wasn’t the first one to pull away.

Daisy wanted to remind Jemma that she wasn’t going to let anything happen to her, that they had a deal and she was going to stick to it. If Jemma couldn’t break the curse, Daisy was going to get her to safety, even if it meant the cost of her own life or, perhaps worse, if it cost Daisy her soul. She was reluctant to but eventually she had to release her grip and pull back from the hug. She stepped back a bit and held just her left hand up for Jemma. “Let’s get some fresh air,” she smiled and led the way back to the door of the cabin to let them out. The window on the wall next to the bed did usually offer them a decent breeze with the speed of their sailing, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same getting sunlight from that window either, Daisy knew.

Jemma took a deep breath, afraid of what might be in store on the other side of the door, but she did trust Daisy and none of the crew were likely to defy her in broad daylight with her present. So Jemma grabbed for Daisy’s hand and squeezed it. When the door opened, Jemma couldn’t help but wander outside like she was in a trance. The breeze and the fresh ocean air gently swept across her shoulders and cheeks and her skirt swayed slightly with the force of it. She closed her eyes, just absorbing the warm sunlight on her face and also blocking out the bright light, as she’d gotten quite used to Daisy’s dark quarters. Jemma sighed and just stood there outside the door, eyes closed and not saying a word, just enjoying being outdoors for the first time in weeks.

Daisy made sure to properly slip her eye patch into place so her eye would be adjusted to the dark once they went back into the cabin, whenever Jemma was feeling better from the confinement. She stopped next to Jemma just outside the door and let her adjust and take it in. Daisy squinted as her right eye worked to adjust to the light even though she'd been in it not so long ago coming back from working with the ailing crew.   
  
Nearby them in an out of the way spot on the deck that was somewhat shaded from the sun, Kamala and Ace were playing a game that involved knot tying. Kamala shook Ace’s shoulder and pointed. "Told you she wasn't a vampire!" She blurted through a giggle, possibly a little too loudly. Ace’s head snapped up, shock on his face that his insistence this whole time to Kamala about Jemma being a vampire because of what little glimpse he'd seen of her pale skin and how she'd been shut inside in the dark this whole time.   
  
Daisy felt the corners of her mouth turn up. Moving her lips as little as possible, she murmured. "Now's your chance to give them a good fright for the ages," she chuckled.

Jemma opened her eyes and after looking quickly at the children, she rolled her eyes at Daisy and smiled at Kamala and Ace. She didn’t need to give anyone a reason to dislike her, so she wasn’t about to scare them. A joke was more appropriate.

  
“A witch, then a vampire, soon you’ll be saying I’m a ghost or a werewolf.” Jemma chuckled and shook her head at the children.

Ace’s eyes widened. “...Are you a werewolf???” He asked. Daisy ducked her head and turned it as she brought her hand up to pretend her chuckle was a cough.

“She can’t be!” Kamala shook her head. “She doesn’t have enough hair!”

“Oh,” Ace said, shoulder slumping almost in disappointment.

Daisy grinned. “We’ve still got a few days to the full moon,” Daisy pointed out before she winked at Ace and then turned to Jemma. “Ready to stretch your legs?”

Jemma laughed at the children’s reaction and grabbed for Daisy’s arm to wrap her own around for the walk, a bit so she could steady herself with the moving ship but also selfishly so she could just hold onto Daisy.   
  
“It’s nice out here.” Jemma told her walking companion. She looked out over the edge of the ship and over the open expanse of the sea. It stretched as far as the eye could see, and in every direction. It was beautiful, but it also gave Jemma a sick feeling in her stomach.

Daisy would have been lying if she said she wasn’t pleased with the fact that Jemma’s arm was wound around hers. She just let it happen as if it were perfectly natural. She kept their pace slow to account for the swaying since she knew it was harder on the deck than just the few possible paces in her quarters. She felt angry with herself that she hadn’t managed to take Jemma out of her cabin before now. Yes, her safety was tantamount but she could have just done this during the day when she knew the crew could control themselves. “In fair weather, it’s quite lovely, yes,” she agreed as she stopped next to the ship’s edge with Jemma. “Sometimes in the rain too,” When the they were in warmer climates and the rains came to break oppressive humidity or to bring the wind back into their sails, it was downright worthy of throwing a celebration, really. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring you out sooner,” She looked over at Jemma and, for a moment, wondered if Jemma had a fear of heights or not.

“I would have been too afraid even if you tried.” Jemma shook her head. In fact, she had refused Daisy’s offer the first time only days into their journey, and not just because she had been injured. “I still am.” She said quietly, looking out over the water and leaning on the rail. She rested her chin in her hands, elbows on the rail, and sighed. She’d never been on a ship before, and she found it was quite exciting to be this far from home, but quite scary in her present company and so far away from land that she couldn’t swim to it if she needed to.   
  
As Jemma thought it, some of the crew began to mill about on the deck and they gave Jemma harrowing glances that made her back straighten and her hands clasp together in front of her, nervously wringing each other out.

Daisy didn’t need to look to know some of the others were on the deck. She reached out and settled one hand on top of Jemma’s wringing hands. “I will not let anything happen to you,” Daisy assured her. “I give you my word,” And she sure hoped it had more weight now than it did when she’d first told Jemma similar. She turned to stand next to Jemma and see who might be on deck currently, hoping it might be someone she could reasonably bring over to introduce to Jemma.

“Let’s go say hello.” Trip nudged Raina with his elbow and gestured to the stranger standing next to their captain. They all knew the daughter of the witch who cursed them was on board for the past weeks, but only a few of them had seen her and interaction with her had been off limits and out of the question, but now that she was out and about, Trip was curious.  
  
“What, you want to be friendly with the enemy?” Raina muttered under her breath as they got closer. “You know everyone’s been worse since she got here.” She complained, but before Trip could reply they were within Jemma and Daisy’s earshot and Raina had to silence herself.   
  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Simmons. My name is Antoine Triplett, but you can call me Trip.” Trip introduced himself and carefully held his hand out. Jemma hesitantly placed her hand in his and allowed him to bow and gently kiss her hand with a smile. The friendly greeting made Jemma almost smile, but then her eyes shifted to an angry looking woman next to Trip and she quickly retreated a step backward toward Daisy.   
  
“That’s Raina.” Trip indicated toward the new face. Jemma just nodded.

“Trip and Raina are largely responsible for our meals,” Daisy said, glancing between Trip and Raina. Between the two, she new Raina would be the one to watch out for, though she felt confident that both of them would control themselves at the current time. Even so, her brain automatically calculated what she’d need to do to deflect any attacks that came from their direction. Her muscles remained relaxed and her breathing remained even. “I was banned from the galley other than to pick up food when I was six and-,”

“And she managed to set a cast iron crock pot on fire,” Elena called out from some feet away. She had stepped out on the deck to stretch her legs and had angled toward the quartet right away just to make sure Daisy and Jemma were alright with the others.

The quick anecdote made Jemma smile and pushed her away from the frightened state she’d fallen into only moments before. She imagined little Daisy running around the ship wreaking havoc with all the other kids and it made her miss her own childhood, despite her lack of fun.   
  
“When I was that age I was being snipped at for trying to play in the mud.” Jemma shared with the rest of them. Coulson had hated it, that she was so adventurous instead of calm and collected.

“Daisy was trying to-,”

“To give our former cook Mace a break from all his hard work,” Daisy cut Elena off to innocently interject her heroic deed, which only made Elena smirk more broadly at her. She turned to Jemma and almost asked her what it was like to play in the mud since she’d really only had the boat and the water to play in. She’d been on beaches now that she was older and before she could remember but most of her childhood they weren’t allowed off the boat because of the curse and fearing they’d get into trouble or get lost and wouldn’t make it back before sundown. “Better playing in the mud than…” She arched her eyebrows as she tried to think of what they would have made Jemma do if she weren’t playing in the mud. “Balance….books on one’s head for...posture?”

“Well that’s rather presumptuous of you.” Jemma practically snorted at Daisy’s assumption about her childhood. Even if her family was wealthy and powerful, she was no princess, and that was what allowed her to bend the rules for so long. “I was too busy reading the books to put them on my head.” She replied jokingly. Her education had always been controversial but it was the one thing Jemma never budged on.

“Sounds terrible,” Raina muttered sarcastically. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. It wasn’t as if she’d had a childhood in comparison. First, she’d been Jemma’s father’s captive and then she’d been cursed and stuck on this boat. “How _did_ you ever survive it all?” she ground out.

“Raina,” Daisy said her name calmly.

“You can’t expect us to just stand here while she tells us about how terrible her perfect life was after everything we’ve been through!” Raina snapped.

“I expect you to step back, take a breath and remember that none of us asked for the lives we were given,” Daisy said. “We had no choice in the course our lives took previously. Jemma’s the only chance we have of changing that,” She said, sympathy in her face because she understood but she also needed to keep control of the situation.

“She is the only chance, that’s why it’s so ridiculous that we’re standing here right now forced to make small talk instead of acting.” Raina countered, not quite following Daisy’s underlying order to shut her mouth.   
  
Meanwhile, the fire in Jemma had started to be fanned when Raina started snapping at her. She was just trying to be friendly and she knew everyone on this ship had been worse off than her, but she knew they didn’t want her pity either, so she didn’t know what they wanted, other than her death of course.   
  
“I’m going to do my very best to undo what my parents did, even after I was beaten and kidnapped, what reason do you possibly have to hate me personally and not my mother and father?” Jemma snapped back at Raina. Tensions were rising quickly and someone was going to have to stop it, and fast, because it looked like Raina was about to burst.

Daisy didn’t get a chance to reply before Jemma suddenly spoke up. Both Daisy and Elena, who had moved closer for the conversation, made subtle movements. Daisy shifted so her shoulder and side were in front of Jemma and Elena mirrored the action in front of Raina.

“Alright, let’s take it easy,” Elena said.

Trip looped a muscular arm around Raina’s shoulders. “We need to get back to work,” He told Raina. “If there’s anything we can get you,” He said to Jemma and Daisy. “Let Ace or Kamala know and they’ll bring us the message,” He gave them a small smile as he started pulling Raina away before she could start a fight with Daisy. None of them needed that.

Daisy was barely biting her tongue on reminding Raina that no one had forced her to come over and speak with them. She gave Trip a nod and didn’t shift her weight back until they were nearly to the entry to go below decks.

“Don’t take it personal,” Elena nudged Jemma’s arm with her elbow. “She’s always cranky when she skips breakfast,” She attempted a small joke in an attempt to ease some tension.

“That half the ship would rather kill me than give me a chance? No, it’s not personal at all.” Jemma gave a nervous chuckle with the joke and subconsciously grabbed onto the arm Daisy had in front of her for the extra security.

Elena’s eyes very discreetly took in the action. “Well,” She said to Jemma. “You are captive on a pirate ship,” she said, fighting back the urge to defend Raina’s comments. It wasn’t actually personal that any of them wanted her dead, it was quite literally because they wanted freedom from their bonds. Getting to know Jemma would provide conflict with their natural urges to seek relief. “We’re not always perfect,” She smiled, tipped the hat on her head slightly and glanced at Daisy. “Cap,” she nodded and turned to head for Kamala and Ace, whistling out a tune as she went.

Daisy turned her attention to Jemma. She tugged her arm slightly and nodded her head for Jemma to come with her and then headed toward the ship’s pointed bow. “I know this isn’t easy,” she said as they strolled. When the reached the bow, she pulled a plank and set it across two braces to provide them with a seat. “I hope when it’s all over, you’ll get to see more of the people I know and less of their...more pessimistic sides.” She glanced out toward the water.

“I hope so.” Jemma nodded to Daisy. “It would be nice if both parties were able to see each other as human beings.” She added. It wasn’t just her that was unable to truly see Daisy’s crew, it was also the crew that was unable to see her past her parents. She couldn’t argue that her parents did atrocious things, but Jemma hadn’t and she didn’t know how they could really understand that until she broke their curse, which she was determined to do.   
  
“They’re wrong.” Jemma said quietly. “It’s not a waste, I will break the curse.”

“I hope so,” Daisy echoed Jemma’s words back to her. She genuinely understood how it could feel like a waste to the others. Every day they kept Jemma alive meant another night of endless torture. Daisy’s brow furrowed a moment. “I feel it’s important to point out something I have noticed,” she looked over at Jemma. “The curse has always been cruel and vicious, but...lately,” She struggled to figure out how to explain it. “It’s been worse than usual...more intense. Not just for me, for the others too.”

“So...” Jemma trailed off as she collected her thoughts and came to her own conclusion the same way everyone else had. “You think I’m making it worse?” She asked for confirmation, frowning. That was not her intention at all and she just wanted to hurry to Spain so she would have somewhere to start.

Daisy frowned. “I’m...I’m not entirely sure if that’s what I’m saying or not,” She answered. It was true. She’d made the observation and during her rounds this morning she’d heard others murmuring about it. “Not...I do not mean to say that this is being done in a purposeful way,” She added just to be sure that Jemma knew Daisy didn’t think that _she_ was actually making something like that happen to them. The kind of shock Jemma displayed when Daisy had told her about her mother wasn’t the kind of thing a person could fake. She didn’t think Jemma was trying to dupe her, in fact she felt Jemma was doing quite the opposite and earnestly trying to help. “I think, perhaps…” Daisy paused and tried for a moment to assemble the proper words in her head. “We ought to possibly ask May if it’s possible the curse itself can tell there is something in the works to destroy it?”

Daisy’s words troubled Jemma, but also set ideas turning in her head. The idea that something could sense the curse in danger of being broken made Jemma think a person was responsible, like her mother was still watching and becoming angry. It made her wonder where the dead went. If there was something as nonscientific as magic and curses, was it possible the dead weren’t truly gone? And if they weren’t, was there a way Jemma could contact her mother somehow and either convince her to stop or to convince her to tell Jemma how to break the curse? Maybe it was possible, Jemma didn’t know, but she needed to get to May to figure out what her first steps should be. After what Daisy told her, Jemma didn’t much feel like walking around. She didn’t want to see the haunted faces of the crew when she knew her life was not only preventing their agony from ending, but making it worse. She just quietly stared out at the ocean, brows furrowed and mind filled with troubling thoughts.


	5. Powerful Creatures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** No major warnings
> 
> Do you feel spoiled with all these new posts and updates within the last week or so??   
> ;D 
> 
> <3
> 
> __________________

After Daisy and Jemma eventually made their way back to her cabin, Daisy excused herself after a quick lunch with Jemma, Kamala and Ace. She ushered the kids out to keep them from asking too many questions that might further upset Jemma and promised to be back after she made another round checking on the crew. She spoke as long as she could with them and mapped out a plan of what they would all do once they’d docked in Spain. She reapplied gels, pastes and creams where she could and did her best to help keep everyone’s spirits up since she needed them at their best in order to get through this. 

Eventually, she made it back to the cabin with their evening meal, which was a thick pea stew made up with leftover ham, peas and beans that they’d had for a few meals, tossed with some extra vegetables. They had some fruit that hadn’t turned yet so they it was tough work to make sure that didn’t go to waste. Trip also told her he had some nets he planned to cast out before nightfall to check in the morning, give them something lighter to eat. 

Daisy struggled during dinner, trying to talk herself into going through another half decanter of rum before bedtime since she thought it was the best way to make her body exhausted enough to fall asleep even if it was a restless sleep of troubled dreams from the curse. It was after their meal that she filled up a glass, somewhat reluctantly, and drank half of it down in one gulp with only a slight cringe as it went down. It wouldn’t be the first time (even before Jemma) that she resorted to this method and, if Jemma couldn’t break this curse, it surely wouldn’t be the last. Now that the idea was in her head that Jemma’s presence was possibly exacerbating the curse, she felt more anxious about the looming evening as the sun was no more than a half hour away from setting. She continually glanced from her still half filled cup to the open window of the room, watching as the oranges morphed to pinks, and lavender, preparing to deep blue and purple. She felt her throat growing tight and her heart beginning to race erratically in her chest. She even felt the beads of sweat as they began to prick at the nape of her neck. She hadn’t even realized that she’d stopped talking midway through a response to Jemma and couldn’t even remember what Jemma had asked her as she was too busy staring at her impending doom through that window. 

“Daisy?” Jemma asked again, sitting up from where she had settled under the covers in bed. She knew it was early to go to sleep, but they had taken to trying to fall asleep before the effects of the curse began. It was easier that way. “Are you coming to bed?” Jemma asked, not quite realizing how domestic it sounded until it came out of her mouth. They’d only shared the bed once and it had been an awkward time for the both of them. They hadn’t talked about it, but Jemma wanted Daisy to get some sleep again and she wouldn’t complain if Daisy was next to her.

Daisy blinked, the dread having already settled over her even though the sun wasn’t actually fully down yet. The anticipation of it could be just as bad. She glanced over at the bed, arched her eyebrows slightly before her brain registered what Jemma had asked. Then, just as she had the night before, she eyed up the spot next to Jemma on her bed, though with possibly a good deal more desire in her eyes tonight. Daisy turned her eyes toward her glass, saw the liquid in it jostle slightly as the trembles started to take root in her fingers. Her brow furrowed a moment and she wondered if she’d ever trembled so much just in anticipation of the void before. “Yeah,” She nodded, somewhat hoarse as her throat had gone dry. She resisted the urge to drink the rest of her glass. Instead she set it down and headed in her pajamas over to the bed. She knew fighting was useless like it had been the night before and she felt too worn out to put up the fight in the first place. She climbed into the bed on the empty side, rolled til she was facing Jemma. 

“Were you upset this morning because of the kiss,” Daisy blurted. “Or because of the way we fell asleep after?” Granted, Daisy hadn’t fallen asleep until just when the sun was coming up so she hadn’t slept all that much really and she hadn’t been able to get her usual daytime sleep in on top of it. Her eyes were half lidded but they also looked similar to how they did when the void took hold, wider pupils, dread filling them mixed with a weariness that words couldn’t properly describe. It had to be the kiss right? Or was the cuddling part worse? Either way she had to ask, didn’t she? No, she probably didn’t. She shouldn’t have. It was a bad idea. Jemma might say both. She had to say both. Daisy’d had her kidnapped. She’d been beaten because of that order. She’d been stabbed while in Daisy’s custody. She was just trying to survive the ordeal, that was all. Daisy could tell the sun had finished setting, not because of the darkness in the room, but because of the increasing insecurity rolling through her brain that she just couldn’t stop.  

“No, it wasn’t that at all.” Jemma’s eyes widened and she extended an arm to brush her knuckles against Daisy’s cheek to try to reassure her. She didn’t know how to explain to Daisy that it hadn’t been her without telling her what had really happened. She would have to go with a vague explanation and only hope Daisy believed her.    
  
“It wasn’t you. It was someone else, but it’s okay.” Jemma promised. She grabbed onto one of Daisy’s hands with both of her own. “The kiss was good.” 

Daisy wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. It was hard to know if this was because it wasn’t really an answer, despite her comment about the kiss, or if it was because her brain was screaming at her that Jemma wasn’t telling her the truth. She had no logical reason to think this other than the fact that the void was in full swing. She couldn’t trust what Jemma said because their situation was inherently untrustworthy. No matter how earnest Daisy could try to be in her quest, Jemma was still her captive and therefore she couldn’t allow herself to trust her. In that right, because of the curse, she couldn’t trust her crew, even Bobbi. Bobbi had  _ stabbed _ her, nearly  _ killed  _ her in fact, all because Daisy insisted that Jemma not be harmed. Daisy clenched her eyes eyes shut against her thoughts. “Okay,” she murmured, not moving her hand at all when Jemma picked it up. Her brow creased. 

“I shouldn’t be over here tonight,” It came out as a strained whisper, but Daisy didn’t move. If it was true she couldn’t trust that Jemma trusted her so much as was just doing whatever she thought would keep Daisy from killing her to end the curse, then Daisy shouldn’t be trusted to be this close to Jemma. And with an ambiguous response to what had happened the night before, she should consider a retreat to the corner while her thoughts were working against her. Daisy felt constriction in her chest that seemed to be tightening with each new breath. The beads of sweat had continued down the back of her neck and now began to dot her forehead, temples and cheeks. She tried to remind herself that her mind was just playing a trick of its own against her and that she shouldn’t listen but the overwhelming feeling of foreboding, of loneliness in her convictions, of insecurity that she was making the wrong choices all along, letting her crew down, keeping them from being free from their terrible tortures while they increased in magnitude. Daisy wondered, given all of this information, if she actually deserved to survive this ordeal. Perhaps she did not. 

“Please don’t go,” Jemma sighed. She knew that the void was taking over, she could see the darkness in Daisy’s eyes, but she knew that letting Daisy go chain herself up in the corner would make it worse. If Daisy was asking about her feelings regarding the kiss, she must not feel as though Jemma had taken advantage. That meant that maybe she could do something to help with Daisy’s loneliness and it wasn’t necessarily bad.    
  
“Stay.” Jemma whispered. She leaned in so their noses just barely ghosted across each other and she tilted her head to press their foreheads together.

The exhaustion was the thing that always made Daisy crack in the end. Given proper recuperation time and enough time to work on her meditation, Daisy could navigate to her baseline. The combination of lacking both of those, of losing the trust of the one person she thought she could trust with her very life no matter what, and the inability to actually ignore even a fraction of the void’s influence...Daisy felt her eyes burn as Jemma drew closer to her, as Jemma’s flesh touched hers. 

“I’m afraid I’ve lost control,” Daisy whispered. It was illogical, she knew. If she’d lost control, it was more likely than not that she would have attacked Jemma. But the idea had been drilled into her very reflexes by her mother that it was wrong to blame Jemma for this because it was not Jemma’s fault. So the only thought she had control over was the repetition of her mother’s words fighting against the increasingly louder screams from the void. Pain began to constrict in her face as muscles throughout her body cramped, straining against urges that terrified her - the urge to touch Jemma, to kiss her, pull her closer, hold onto her as if her very life depended on it against the urge to wrap her hands around her neck and squeeze until Jemma stopped breathing. 

Daisy pulled her hands away from Jemma’s reach, balled her fists as tightly as she could, until she felt her nails beginning to pierce the skin of her palms beneath her bright white knuckles. She tucked her arms in against her chest and tensed her muscles, trying to lock them into place. It wasn’t the lost control she was really afraid of, it was that she might actually feel something intimate for Jemma and the void just kept reminding her over and over and over and over again that she couldn’t trust herself, that she’d already made terrible decisions and making more of them would further injure her crew and likely Jemma as well. The void also liked reminding Daisy that this situation was all temporary. Once the curse was broken or once they figured out there was no way to break the curse, Daisy would be returning Jemma to safety away from the ship. She would be gone and Daisy would be left with a void stronger than the one she already experienced and it would have no daily respite because it would fester round the clock. Given all of this, Daisy knew it was already too late. 

“Shhhh,” Jemma cooed, moving her hands from Daisy’s to hold her face, one palm on each of Daisy’s cheeks. “It’s alright, you’ll be alright.” She promised. Every night it was the same, and Jemma hated to see the misery in Daisy’s eyes. She knew she couldn’t fix it, not tonight, but she could busy Daisy in trying to remedy her lonely void. It wasn’t even a temporary fix, but if Daisy needed to focus on the better part of the curse; the part that made her want to kiss Jemma instead of the part that made her want to kill Jemma. That wasn’t why Jemma did it though. She didn’t just do it so Daisy wouldn’t kill her, she did it because she wanted to help her, and more than that, she actually did want to kiss Daisy. So she did. She leaned in closer and tentatively pressed their lips together, waiting to see what Daisy would do before she continued.

Daisy wanted to resist. It wasn’t right for her to allow it to happen at night, when her own judgment was greatly clouded. She was afraid of what she’d do if she let it happen. She was afraid of what she’d do if she didn’t and she really had lost control to the void. She felt a great deal of physical pain in her gut. It wasn’t unusual to feel physical pain while fighting against the void but the increasingly magnified nature of it was much more intrusive than normal. More than her urges to resist, to fight, Daisy wanted that kiss and everything that might come with it. Something akin to a whimper escaped her as she let her body respond naturally, her mouth moving against Jemma’s and part of her torso shifting closer. Tears slipped from her closed eyes and she began to ignore the urge to breathe because breaking away from that kiss would be more painful and suffocating than if she were to actually asphyxiate because of it. 

One of Jemma’s hands traveled to Daisy’s waist, and the other tangled itself in Daisy’s hair. She deepened the kiss and sat up some, leaning over Daisy and heatedly kissing her. She gently bit at the bottom of Daisy’s lip and smoothed it over with her tongue. It had been too long since she’d done this and she could only hope Daisy wasn’t only responding this way because of the curse. The morning would be the true test.

Once she’d given into the kiss, there wasn’t anything Daisy could do (or that she wanted to do) than let it happen. Her mouth opened slightly when she felt Jemma’s tongue and her own struck out to meet it. She forced the fingers on one of her hands to unfurl. When she moved it it landed first on the side of Jemma’s neck and shoulder. Moments later, with her back on the bed, her arm hooked over Jemma’s shoulder and around her neck, as if she were afraid Jemma might reconsider and abruptly call an end to this like she had the night before. Her leg curled and hooked around Jemma’s hip and thigh, pulling their lower halves flush together. Daisy was sure her heart wouldn’t survive the night with the way it was thundering about in her rib cage but she couldn’t bring herself to care about whether it would give out on her or not. Really, what did she have to lose at this point other than herself, if she already hadn’t? 

A small gasp slipped from Jemma’s lips and mingled with Daisy’s heavy breaths, but it wasn’t a sound of displeasure. It was quite the opposite, in fact. The hand on Daisy’s waist slid down over her hip and then gripped at the back of her thigh, pulling Daisy’s body ever closer and putting more pressure between her legs with her own thigh.    
  
“Let’s escape together.” Jemma whispered, only letting the kiss be paused for the one breath. It didn’t matter to Jemma that she was technically captive and it was because her mother had cursed Daisy, but the circumstance had brought them together, right before Jemma’s engagement in fact, and she couldn’t help but feel like it was for a reason. They were supposed to do this, it was how things were meant to be, so Jemma let it be.

By the time Jemma’s words hit Daisy’s ears, Jemma’s mouth was already back on hers but Daisy’s eyes opened wide. There wasn’t a chance by that point that she could fight against the building desire within her to see this moment through. Where the void surged to overcome it, Daisy surged forward against Jemma, eager to meld the two of them together into one seamless mass in the vain hope that it would be enough to overpower the darkness lingering beneath the surface within her. 

Layers peeled away as they tumbled about the confines of the bed with the swaying of the boat against the rolling of the seas. For what would always be too brief a period of time, Daisy was able to fight against the onslaught of panicked alarms from the void telling her she should know better than to allow this, than to have ever agreed to crawl into bed with Jemma, that only more pain would eventually come of this. She fought all of it in favor of the deeper hunger inside her that needed satiating, especially if Jemma was willing to provide that sustenance so readily. 

For the first time in a very long time, Daisy lost track of time as it passed. Normally, she spent the night counting agonizingly long minutes. Tonight she was lost in the electrical shocks rolling through her spine at a touch, a kiss, a nibble. She had no way of knowing how long they rolled around the bed fighting for dominance, for air, for release. There came a point when their muscles fully gave out and they’d collapsed into a tangled heap together on the bed, breathless, sweat soaked and still coming down from the high. If she hadn’t been so exhausted, Daisy might’ve been embarrassed by the way she clung to Jemma but at the moment, she feared letting go. She knew the void would find its way back to her and silently prayed that she might collapse into unconsciousness before it could, though she knew it was unlikely. In fact she found herself immediately worrying that Jemma was going to regret this come the morning, if not sooner. 

It wasn’t until some time later, Daisy found herself wound together with Jemma loosely under the covers with Jemma’s ear pressed to Daisy’s chest that the void began to weave its way coursing back through Daisy’s veins like the prickly jabs of knives that struck when diving into ice cold winter seas. Daisy didn’t dare move. Her heart worked hard to panic her. Her brain worked twice as hard, preventing her body from giving into the rest it so very greatly craved. She tried to focus on the soft, steady rhythm of Jemma’s easy breathing as she slept, counting the sounds and trying in vain to match her own breathing in time to it to no avail.  _ You’re selfish.  _ It bounced around her mind.  _ Your crew...your  _ **_family_ ** _ is dying and  _ **_this_ ** _ is what you’re doing?  _ Daisy forced her eyes closed and clenched her jaw. She reminded herself that the void was designed to make her doubt herself.  _ You’re a traitor. You’ve betrayed them and you prolong their suffering while satisfying your own desires because you’re weak, pathetic and unfit to lead.  _

Daisy’s eyes opened and she stared at the ceiling in the dark of the room with only bits of light coming in from the moonlight of the open window.  _ They’re onto you. They’re onto you and they’re going to mutiny because they know you’ll never let them take her, because you’re selfish. You’d save her over them after all they’ve done for you all these years.  _ She’d had a temporary reprieve...but things would only get worse from here, wouldn’t they? The curse was reacting to Jemma. Daisy was connecting with Jemma. She was doing this to herself. Sleep, again, for Daisy only came with the sun as it released the void’s hold on her and succumbed to the exhaustion. 

_______

Nothing in particular woke Jemma, but eventually she gained consciousness in what she presumed was the late morning, after the crew had already begun to mill about and footsteps could be heard around and below them. Their breakfast had already been attempted to be delivered, but the knock on the door had gone unanswered as neither of the women had woken up after the events of the previous night. Daisy was still asleep when Jemma’s eyes opened and she didn’t dare wake her. Instead, she just held her closer, arm draped over Daisy’s bare abdomen and face resting on Daisy’s slowly rising and falling diaphragm, just listening to the pace of her heartbeat and breathing. It was incredibly peaceful, comfortable, and warm and Jemma didn’t want it to ever end. She knew it had to though, eventually, but it could wait a few more minutes.    
  
Jemma moved her legs, but they were tangled with Daisy’s so she settled for just gently bending and straightening her knee, rubbing their calves together and just enjoying the contact. After a few minutes of this, there was a second round of knocking on the door and Jemma turned her head on Daisy’s chest to softly kiss at Daisy’s collarbone, leaving a little trail of kisses up her neck to the corner of her mouth. She got out of the tangled sheets and limbs and wrapped the discarded sheet around her chest and body to sufficiently cover herself up to answer the door. She dug the key from Daisy’s clothes on the floor and when she did open the door, she was met with a heavily bandaged Bobbi, holding their breakfasts on a tray and skeptically looking Jemma up and down. An angry look etched its way onto her face but Jemma hushed her with a stern look.    
  
“She’s asleep.” Jemma muttered. Bobbi looked like she was going to protest, to say something Jemma didn’t want to hear about her and Daisy’s development, so she took the tray and backed into Daisy’s quarters again, closing and locking the door behind her after thanking Bobbi for the meal. She set the tray on the desk and headed back over to the bed, crawling over half of it and sitting next to Daisy, arm supporting her weight on Daisy’s other side and holding herself up above her, the second hand holding the sheet secure around her chest.    
  
“Daisy,” Jemma whispered, leaning over and kissing Daisy’s closed eyelids, then on the bridge of her nose, and beside her mouth again. “Wake up.” She wanted to let Daisy sleep, but she was sure wildfire would be spreading among the crew by now and Daisy’s absence for her normal duties wouldn’t help.

Daisy shifted at first in the bed, moving in reaction to Jemma’s initial touches, then again when Jemma’s warmth left the bed though it didn’t fully rouse her from her sleep. A small, soft hum of a groan escaped her throat and she shifted again as Jemma tried to wake her. She fought against opening her eyes. She had years of sleep to catch up on. Her eyes cracked open and she attempted to say ‘good morning,’ but it came out as an unintelligible, murmured hum through her dry throat, still thick from sleep. She reached a hand out and touched Jemma’s cheek. The scent of the food filled her nose and caused her stomach to grumble and a moment later the implication of its presence hit her and Daisy jolted up in bed, eyes darting first to the door and then to the desk as they widened. “When...what time...w-who brought it?” She stammered. 

Jemma’s hand shot out when Daisy sat up so quickly to grab for her hand and try to keep her calm as a reflex. She looked out the window and tried to gauge the sun’s position. “I figure we missed the first attempted delivery, but Bobbi just brought it a moment ago.” She said, frowning at Daisy’s apparent distress. Should she have not answered the door?

The color quickly drained from Daisy’s face. “No,” She breathed the word and quickly slipped from Jemma’s grasp and the bed, staggering as she tried to move too quickly to get to her normal clothes. She glanced toward the window and saw just from the angle of the shadows from the sun that it was much later than she imagined. “No, no, no, no,” Daisy repeated the word mostly to herself. Without having a key any longer, Bobbi must’ve been worried about Daisy’s state of mind, especially if she hadn’t answered their first attempt. Daisy’s hands began shaking as she forced her way into her pants and shirt, tugging into her boots, her vest. She raced to her sword belt and hurriedly tried to get it round her waist and tied.  _ This is what you get, _ her own brain voiced what the void would have told her had it still been night time.  _ This is what you get for giving in - they already doubted your loyalty. This is the end, Johnson.  _ How was she going to keep Jemma safe now? Could she convince the crew to trust her if Bobbi already told them? It wasn’t as if Bobbi hadn’t walked in on her after she’d tried to chase the demons away before, with women or men, or both if she felt especially desperate. It never worked, of course, but this was much worse. This was betrayal on her part as far as they’d be concerned and if Ward caught wind there was no telling how quickly that wildfire would spread to mutiny.  _ How could you be so foolish, Daisy?!  _ She chided herself as she finished tying her belt. Having been caught up in the panic, she gasped and spun around when she felt a hand on her arm and came face to face with Jemma, momentarily frozen in the moment.

“Just do it.” Jemma told Daisy. She didn’t specify what, but it was probably obvious at this point, especially to Jemma. Daisy saw it all as a mistake, a big mistake, and she knew by the way Daisy reacted that she was afraid for her control over the crew. Jemma should have realized before she opened the door. She shouldn’t have even slept with Daisy in the first place. She shouldn’t have tried to be friends, she shouldn’t have fought back, she should have just let Bobbi kill her that night. That was how this was going to go. Jemma pressed the handle of the knife she was given into Daisy’s hand and closed her fingers around it. “Just do it.” Jemma whispered again.

Daisy blinked. “What?” She asked, the strong adrenaline rush overpowering her sense a moment. She hadn’t figured her reaction would affect Jemma this way because she had assumed Jemma understood that their entire situation hung precariously upon a single thread to keep it from crashing down around them. Daisy’s eyes dropped down to her hand as Jemma thrust the dagger into it. Abject horror filled Daisy’s face as she lifted her eyes to Jemma’s. This entire time Daisy had been repeatedly reminding Jemma that she didn’t intend to kill her, had told her she wanted to put into place a contingency plan to keep her alive in the event she couldn’t break the curse. Did Jemma really think Daisy was just going to give up and kill her? 

Daisy turned the hand around and held the dagger away from either of them, reached out with her free hand and caught Jemma by the side of her neck back by the back side of her jaw. She pulled her in and brought their mouths crashing together. Everything she could put into that kiss, Daisy did as she was sure it might be the last time she ever kissed Jemma. When her lungs had no more air, she broke the kiss and stared at Jemma. “I already told you,” she spoke softly. “I have no intentions of harming you.” She leaned back slightly and held the dagger up by the blade so Jemma could take it by the handle. “You’re going to need to hold onto this, though.” She didn’t know how they were going to react and she wasn’t about to leave Jemma defenseless. 

Swallowing hard against the growing lump in her throat. “I need to get to Bobbi before it’s too late,” She didn’t want to leave Jemma here alone but she had little choice. Her eyes searched Jemma’s quickly as her thumb ran across Jemma’s cheek one last time. She found the key and went for the door, unlocked it without removing the drop bar. She turned to Jemma and held the key out to her. “Get changed. Put this around your neck. No one else has a key. If anyone tries to enter that isn’t me, you need to pull up the small rug under the bed. There’s a trap door. Climb in and lock it back in place behind you. It will take you to Kamala and Ace’s quarters. They’ll know how to hide you until the ship is docked and they’ll take you off the ship before the others can find you.” Daisy paused a moment. “If it comes to it, when you reach land...you need to go further than a day’s journey inland,” She looked back at Jemma with sadness in her eyes, sadness that any of this might be necessary because she gave into her feelings for Jemma. “Understand?” Daisy had not taken up the plan to kidnap Jemma lightly. She’d had plans in place all along as fallbacks but she’d been hoping to avoid them. Now she was afraid she’d fucked them up and endangered Jemma’s life. Her own life was in great danger in this moment, but in the grand scheme of it all...it wasn’t her own life that she cared about, it was Jemma’s.

Jemma nodded silently, unsure if she was even willing to go along with all of this. After all, what was her life worth? Was it worth the endless suffering of the thirty some odd crew members of the ship who had done nothing wrong before her father enslaved them? Was it worth Daisy’s suffering? Jemma glanced down at the dagger that had been placed back in her hand and a dark look passed over her face, though she ended up putting the knife on the edge of Daisy’s desk.    
  
“Do what you need to do.” Jemma nodded. This wasn’t just about Bobbi and the crew. This was about whatever was going on between them and Jemma’s own self doubt. She was already setting aside her own contingency plans. 

Daisy hesitated after that shadow crossed Jemma's face. She went to her desk and snatched the pouch with the medical ointments, though the crew had been given their own new batches of them. With it, she tucked the extra key to the cabin into her right boot leg. She returned to Jemma, reached up to cradle her cheek again, this time pulling her closer. "This is not how I wanted this morning to go and for that I am sorry," she confessed after leaning her forehead to Jemma's. "Lock and bar the door behind me. If I mention anything about a cauldron," she backed up as she stared into Jemma's eyes. "Don't let me in, just hide.” She gave Jemma one last kiss then removed the bar from the unlocked door and walked out quickly. Her eyes scanned everyone and thing around her as she went, searching faces to see if they'd heard yet, moving quickly below decks, flipping her eyepatch up as she went, searching for Bobbi.

“Okay.” Jemma said quietly. She stepped away from Daisy as she left, clutching the sheets up to her chest. She just stood there for a few minutes before she finally threw on her dress, but she didn’t much feel like eating, so she crawled back into bed and clutched the pillow, which happened to smell a lot like Daisy. She didn’t know what to think about how Daisy reacted. Did she think it was all a mistake, did she regret their night together? It wasn’t just about the danger; Jemma had too many strong feelings for Daisy and it didn’t make any of this any easier.

______________   
  
Daisy felt confused as she passed the others on the way to Bobbi's cabin, where Mack said she'd gone to rest. Outside of their usual recovery moods, and Ward, Raina and co, she wasn't receiving any unusual death glares or physical threats along her way. Could it be that Bobbi hadn't told anyone? Daisy knocked on the door and waited anxiously for a reply just to ensure Bobbi wasn't in there with Hunter. Chewing nervously on her lower lip, she strained her ears to listen for a reply. How was she to explain this to her first mate, her best friend, her sister? How was she to convince Bobbi that she wasn't just a weak, foolish woman? Bobbi knew how strongly Daisy had felt that Jemma wasn't at fault for this curse and therefore didn't deserve to die for it long before whatever Bobbi saw when she delivered food not so long ago. She had to know that Daisy was working hard to free them, to lead them all out of this with their lives in tact, right?? Daisy didn't know what she would do if Bobbi thought she was honestly betraying the crew.

Bobbi slowly walked to the door, sure that there was only one person who would come calling so quickly to do damage control. She couldn’t help but feel angry with Daisy, her captain and best friend, for sleeping with the enemy, but it also made her realize that even if she didn’t try to, she did think of Jemma as the enemy. Her existence alone made the rest of them suffer and she was certain at this point that if Jemma couldn’t break the curse then Daisy wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done. She didn’t want to let on to the fact that she would disobey Daisy if the situation arose where the only way to break the curse was to kill Jemma. It was nothing personal against the young woman, but crew members had already died and the rest of them would soon enough if Jemma didn’t make the sacrifice. She was also angry at Daisy for what felt like her taking advantage of her captive. Jemma was locked up in her cabin, her life threatened, and somehow Jemma found herself in bed with Daisy. It didn’t quite make sense and Bobbi didn’t know what to make of it. So she opened the door to a wide eyed Daisy Johnson.    
  
“Out of bed, finally, I see.” Bobbi snapped at Daisy. She had been scratching her skin raw all night while Daisy had been romping around with the reason they were all still in this mess.

By the time Bobbi answered the door, Daisy’s guilt had had enough time (from the moment she’d bolted up in bed to the moment the door opened) to fester. She’d started feeling like the void had never left with the sun. There were those among the crew that thought she got off easy with her curse and Daisy couldn’t blame them. She’d worked very hard over the years to make it appear this way while she’d been withering and slowly dying each day with them. She’d broken a few times over the years and Bobbi was one of the only ones that had known it, had pulled her back from the edge or stopped her before she could ensure she was off the boat at sundown or enact a planned way of ending it for herself. During none of those times had Daisy felt the void as bad as she had been since Jemma had been on the boat. Sure it could linger through the morning as she cleared the cobwebs, but at the moment she felt like it had never let go of her after sunup. She flinched, visibly, as if the words had actually punched her in the gut. 

“Can we talk?” Daisy mustered up the courage to ask it despite the growing urge within her to shrink away from Bobbi’s cabin. Her eyes automatically took in the new bandages among the old deep scars and she struggled to keep her emotions in check at the site of them. It was growing worse for all of them.  _ Selfish _ , her brain reminded her of the void’s taunts after she’d lay tangled in bed with Jemma.  _ Traitor _ . Her grip on the pouch in her hand flexed as she fought the intrusive thoughts.  _ Look what you’re doing to your family!  _ Not for the first time in her life, Daisy wondered why she’d allowed herself to make it to this point. What was the point of it all? If Jemma broke the curse Daisy would still have to live with the things she’d done to get to this life. If Jemma didn’t break the curse she had two options - protect Jemma’s life at the expense of her family...or kill Jemma to release them. Either way, in this event, Daisy already knew she’d not survive the outcome whatever it came down to. She had reconciled this with herself before they’d taken Jemma. She’d prepared for it. She’d accepted it. She lived with the stress and burden of it and she forced herself to ignore how truly frightened she was of what might await her after her death. She’d never dared share any of these thoughts with the others because it was her burden to handle alone. 

Bobbi raised a brow and looked Daisy up and down skeptically, wondering how her night had gone. The rest of them were suffering so visibly and physically that there was no release, but what if Daisy was experiencing relief because of her closeness to Jemma? It was all very confusing and concerning, but Daisy at least deserved that Bobbi hear her out. She stepped to the side and gestured for Daisy to enter.    
  
“What are you doing?” Bobbi asked. Maybe there was some kind of plan she was unaware of; make Jemma more attached to them to encourage her to work faster, maybe. Bobbi didn’t know, but she hoped there was another explanation as to why Daisy was doing the things she was.

In the moment, it had turned the volume on the vacuous bleakness that tried to devour her every night but if this, right now, was ‘relief,’ then Daisy really had no idea why she bothered living. Now she was here to talk with Bobbi when Bobbi could easily have her life and her ship and kill Jemma with a full mutiny if she just told any one other person what she’d witnessed. There was a nagging needle at the back of her mind that began wondering why it seemed like she hadn’t. It might be the best scenario at this point if the thought of letting the crew dispatch of her didn’t mean that they would murder Jemma. 

Under normal circumstances, Daisy would have come already prepared with an answer for Bobbi. She almost always did have a plan and if she didn’t she normally gathered them together to get more heads in the game. She couldn’t do that in this situation because desperation made the only option ‘kill the witch.’ It took a great hit to her own stubborn pride and a great deal more of mustering her courage to stand there with her back straight, refusing to look away from Bobbi while she knew Bobbi of any person on this boat, Bobbi would be able to read her eyes and know she was very far down a rabbit hole and very much lost and past a few breaking points while knowing the terrible toll each night was physically taking on the rest of them, Bobbi especially. She swallowed against the sudden thickness in her throat. 

“I don’t have a rational answer for you,” She admitted, shoulders squared and prepared for whatever lashing she assumed this would draw from Bobbi, be it verbal or physical, thought she honestly expected both. In fact, she felt so much like she deserved it that she found herself wanting it to happen; her eyes pled for punishment and she barely bit the plea back from leaving her tongue to ask Bobbi to reprimand her however she saw fit, captain or no captain. Daisy could practically hear Ward’s voice in her head telling her she never deserved to be their captain in the first place. 

“You need to be careful.” Bobbi chided and stepped further into the room. She procured a bottle of rum and pulled the cork, chugging a mouthful before passing it to Daisy. “You have to remember, whether you believe her or not, she’s still a witch.” Bobbi started. She had initially been angry with Daisy for the betrayal this felt like, but she also wondered if it was Daisy falling for a trap. “Witches are powerful creatures. They are nothing if not deceptive.” She added. “I’m not saying Jemma is this way, but know she is capable and it is probable. Why else would she help us?”

Daisy’s head was already a messy soup of madness. She’d been heavily imbibing rum at night in an effort to force her body to pass into unconsciousness without the curse’s permission. It hadn’t worked but she didn’t think drinking it now would help at all so she just shook her head in response to the offer. She advanced into the room, feeling overly discombobulated by Bobbi’s muted response. She felt the swell of insecurity as Bobbi spoke. She wanted to tell Bobbi that she couldn’t explain why she knew she could trust Jemma because she knew that would sound like she’d had a spell cast on her. “I…” How did she explain it? How did she make Bobbi understand the things she’d been feeling on top of that desperate need to have just a few moments of clarity in the middle of the bonfire that her brain became at night. “I was shackling myself in the corner most of the nights she’s been on board,” She said, wanting Bobbi to know this was not something that had been happening repeatedly. 

“I can’t explain how…” Daisy took a steadying breath. “She’s really not what you...There’s more to the...I just, I needed something…” She shook her head. “Nothing I say will be adequate to explain,” She corrected herself. “I didn’t come to make what come out sounding like excuses,” She said in earnest, though deep down in her, the four year old that met Bobbi for the first time shortly before her father’s death, after they’d saved the other kids and had instantly taken to her, inwardly begged and pleaded for Bobbi to somehow understand what this...what all of this...was doing to her. Physically, she looked rather close to how Cal looked after he’d lost his soul. But Daisy’s soul was in tact, left to actually bare the very frayed and barely held together bits of her psyche while physically draining her, causing those bloodshot eyes, the dark circles that seemed to grow wide around her eyes every day, the gauntness that had started appearing in her cheeks as the lingering lengthy fights with the void took her appetite away, the telling tremor that shook randomly through her hands now and then, down to the haunted look in her eyes she no longer had the strength to hide even while she was trying. 

“Can I…?” She nodded and motioned to Bobbi’s bandages. Even though it was clear they’d been taken care of, Daisy still wanted to check on them. She wasn’t going to ask Bobbi not to tell. She wasn’t even going to ask Bobbi  _ if  _ she was going to tell the others in the end. If she saw fit, she’d do it and Daisy would take her fate however it came to her. 

“They’re already taken care of.” Bobbi said with a bit of malice in her tone. She couldn’t help but be angry with Daisy for what she did, whatever the reason. The more Daisy got attached to Jemma, the less likely it was that they would be allowed to break the curse themselves if Jemma couldn’t, and Bobbi had her doubts. If she was a practiced witch and was fooling Daisy, then she wasn’t going to break the curse or she would have by now. If she was as unaware of her powers as Daisy believed, than Bobbi doubted Jemma would be able to learn the skills necessary to break her powerful mother’s curse, if it was even at all possible. Bobbi didn’t want to hurt Jemma, but she believed it was going to be the only way.    
  
“We’ll dock in Spain in a few hours, just prepare Jemma to get off the ship. If she runs, I will personally make sure she doesn’t get away.” Bobbi promised, taking another swig of the rum before capping it and nearly slamming it on a nearby table.

Daisy flinched again but gave a nod , forcing her eyes away from the bandages. She bit back against the defensive churn in her gut that wanted to plead with Bobbi to trust her. She knew she couldn’t ask it and even if she hadn’t already plotted a backup plan for Jemma’s escape. Daisy wasn’t sure anymore where her logical, rational thoughts ended and the irrational side began as all of it morphed together in her brain into a stew of doubt and despair. “I know the great cost of asking for these extra days,” She said. “I’m not immune to them or their increasing magnitude. What value do our lives truly have if we become the person that did this to us?” Daisy had spent long hours before Jemma was ever on the boat considering this. What was the cost and was it one that they could stand to have as an indelible mark upon whatever was left of their souls when all of it was through? 

Daisy stepped closer and pulled one of the fresh jars of gel from the pouch. She set it next to the jar of rum. Afterward she reached up to right hand with her left and pulled off the only ring she ever wore, one that her mother had worn all her life and had given Daisy the day before she died. It had always been a symbol for Daisy of her life here among the crew, of everything she’d been taught by her mother, the person who’d freed her crew from terrible bonds only to have new ones afflicted on them, of their guardian who fought so long to find resolution for them before her body, mind and soul grew so over powerfullingly weary that her body simply gave out. She reached out and gingerly set the ring down, knowing what it meant for her to relinquish it into Bobbi’s control. Her fingers traced the ridge of the ring one last time and she stepped back and looked at Bobbi, ashamed of herself for the fact that she knew hot tears had sprung to her eyes. “I have and always will trust you with my life.” Despite what had happened the first night Jemma was on the ship, despite her own growing seeds of doubt in her heart and mind, despite everything, she still trusted Bobbi with her life and with the ring, she gave her control of it, for Bobbi to take at whatever moment she deemed appropriate. Bobbi would be free to emerge from her room the moment Daisy left to go incite mutiny and Daisy wouldn’t fight it if that was what her first mate, best friend and sister deemed the right course of action. 

Daisy didn’t wait for a reply. She didn’t think she needed to. She instead turned around and let herself out. 

Bobbi just stared at the table for a while, not sure how to react. It was a huge gesture of trust for Daisy to hand over that ring and Bobbi walked over to it, barely grazing the gold with the tips of her fingers. She’d always trusted Daisy, they were sisters. Not even the curse at night could change that, but somehow Jemma was getting between them. She couldn’t fathom how Daisy was so insistent on protecting Jemma, but she also hadn’t spent much time with Jemma and didn’t know her. Maybe Jemma just hadn’t charmed Bobbi yet, Bobbi had no idea. She just wasn’t willing to trust Jemma enough to place her faith in her when she was still bleeding every night from her own self inflicted wounds. She slipped the ring onto her finger and spun it around with her thumb a few times. She reopened the rum and brought the bottle over to her hammock, where she collapsed into it and took a swig of the drink. It would be a real test to see what Jemma would do on the mainland. More than that, it would be a test for Daisy too.


	6. Lend My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings** somewhat graphic violence
> 
> Have at it!
> 
> ____________________

Daisy left Bobbi’s cabin and tied her pouch to the side of her sword belt. She made her way with near tunnel vision back out to the main deck, reflexively flipping her eye patch down just before breaching into the sunlight. Making her way over, she climbed up to the thankfully currently empty crow’s nest and dropped down inside of it and out of sight. Down in the bottom of the nest, Daisy curled on her side, covered her mouth as tightly as she could and let the fear take her. She let the tears flow, only stifling the sobs so no one below would be able to hear them since it was far enough away. Her body shook with emotion and confusion. If Bobbi was right then Daisy couldn’t even trust herself. If she couldn’t trust herself, how could she make the right decisions to navigate through this nightmare? How would she do that come nightfall when the curse took them again? How was she supposed to know if those growing feelings she had for Jemma were truly her own genuine feelings? What if Bobbi was right and Jemma was just playing her? What if she actually had been aware all along about her heritage? Did she just believe and trust Jemma because Jemma put a spell on her or was this real? Or, worse yet, did Daisy just  _ want _ it to be be real that she was choosing to be blind? 

Daisy didn’t know how long she’d been in the crow’s nest but it was long enough for her to have to spend time catching her breath after the post-cry hiccups had set in. She was thoroughly frazzled and rattled. She climbed down from the crow’s nest and had to order one of the sailors to go up to give them a proper spotting of land. Once they hit the river, they’d have to travel in and dock. She also ordered that a friendly flag be flown to give them extra cover. When she returned to the cabin, she was surprised to find that her key let her in as the door had never been barred after she left. Daisy’s heart jammed into her throat. Had someone from the crew gotten in some other way? She slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. Shutting it behind her and flipping up her patch, Daisy’s eyes swept the room and found only a heap lying under the pile of covers. 

Panic swirled in her belly. What if she was too late? Perhaps Bobbi  _ had _ told someone and, knowing Daisy would come find her, sent them to dispatch Jemma? Daisy inched toward the bed. “...Jemma?” She called softly, almost afraid of whether or not she’d receive a reply. 

Jemma heard Daisy’s call, but it only made her heart jump into her throat and embarrassment flush her cheeks. She didn’t want to be this way, unable to handle the physical and emotional stresses of this kind of situation. She didn’t want it to be this way, but she had been coddled in her wealthy family growing up and the amount of pressure on her now was much more massive than just her pressure to become a wife. She was struggling with her feelings for Daisy and her fear of death but mostly her fear that she wasn’t going to be good enough to help Daisy.    
  
“I’m not cut out for this.” Jemma shook her head and cried. She didn’t want to be a prisoner any longer and she was confused about her role on this ship. Was she just a captive, or was she more? Was she Daisy’s friend possibly, or was it more? What did Daisy actually think of her? Was this all just some elaborate plan to convince her to help them? Jemma didn’t know any of the answers to any of her questions and she just wanted it all to end.

Though she hadn’t yet gone back to lock the door, the rush of relief when she heard Jemma’s voice was so strong that, by the time she registered that Jemma was crying, she was already peeling the covers away and reaching out for Jemma. Instinct or whatever it may be, she pulled Jemma in toward her and held on. She didn’t speak at first, afraid her insecurities would force their way out rather than something encouraging. For both of their lives, Daisy knew she had to muster up some form of confidence and that she had to express her faith in Jemma whether she could explain it or not. Reaching up to cradle either side of Jemma’s face, she leaned back and held Jemma’s gaze, wiped her cheeks with the pads of the thumbs to gently wipe the tears away. 

“Yes you are,” Daisy answered. “You’re clever, strong enough to fight back and very stubborn from what I’ve observed alone.” She searched Jemma’s eyes as if they might somehow tell her the truth or betray Jemma if she really were pulling one over on Daisy but mostly she just wanted to lose herself in them while she was conscious about the way it made her feel. “We can do this together,” She said. They had to. There wasn’t much choice otherwise. “I’m too far gone to lose you now,” She confessed in nearly a whisper.  _ Please _ she sent the prayer up to whatever gods might be listening and possibly willing to feel pity for her,  _ Please let this be real _ . Daisy knew Bobbi wouldn’t need to dispatch of her if it was all a ruse. Daisy simply wouldn’t survive such a truth. She needed to believe Jemma was sincere, not just because she wanted it so very badly but because she needed to have faith in something and Jemma was that something for her. 

Jemma wiggled and turned around so her face was buried into Daisy’s shirt at her stomach. Her arms wrapped around Daisy’s torso and she stopped her sniffling and just breathed in Daisy’s scent to help calm herself.   
  
“I think I have an idea, but I’m afraid.” Jemma murmured. She clutched Daisy even tighter and held on like her life depended on it. She certainly had an idea, but she was going to need May’s help to implement it.

Daisy wrapped her arms around Jemma’s head and shoulders, combed fingers through her hair and stroked between her shoulder blades. Daisy wanted to admit that she too was afraid but Jemma had already seen her terror over multiple nights. She didn’t need to admit it right now. She couldn’t actually fathom what life without steady fear was like in reality. “What is it?” she asked, hoping it was something she could encourage rather than discourage. 

Jemma sniffled once more before she managed to pull herself together and sit up. She took a moment to take what she thought was a daunting idea and form words to explain it.    
  
“I believe my mother is still with us.” Jemma said. Just the thought made the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck tingle. “It only makes sense if the curse seems like it has consciousness and the ability to tell when it may be broken,” she stopped to take a breath before she continued, “If my mother is as powerful a witch as I’ve been led to believe, then I doubt she would use a curse out of any basic spell book May might have.” She explained, almost getting to the scary part. “So if my mother can communicate with us, there must be a way to communicate with her. I need to find a way to temporarily lend my soul to the other side to convince my mother to either stop her curse or tell me how to break it.” Jemma exhaled. It was a risky idea, even for a witch she was sure, but if fiction she’d read told her anything, and that fiction seemed to be true, than anything was possible.

Daisy felt the hairs on the back of her neck and forearms prickle as her muscles tensed immediately. She struggled to control the expression on her face, to control the instantaneous fear that Jemma’s first words brought to her. She wondered if this was even possible but took a slow, deep breath and patiently waited as she listened to what Jemma had to suggest for an idea. She felt her face drop and the frown that pulled at her mouth. If Jemma was right and May might not have a spellbook that could help them...the implications made Daisy’s heart pound after her conversation with Bobbi. 

Daisy’s eyebrows shot up her forehead and her eyes widened. She couldn’t shield the fear from her eyes as soon as the phrase ‘ _ lend my soul,’ _ passed from Jemma’s mouth. She shook her head quickly, unable to properly focus as the memory of watching her father’s soul tear away from him, of the way he ambled aimlessly about the boat, unable to speak, unable to think, unable to  _ be _ . “No,” She breathed and stood up from the bed, unable to sit still when the jitters had started tap dancing through her veins again. She wrung her hands together and struggled to think this through. “No, you can’t, you…” She heard the fear and the emotion choke her own voice away. “Souls...souls don’t work that way,” She shook her head again, clenching her eyes and trying as hard as she could to push her father’s gaunt face and dead eyes from the flickering screen of her memory. “It doesn’t come back once it’s gone, you can’t,” she shook her head. 

“Daisy, I may have to.” Jemma argued. There probably wasn’t a basic cure-all for curses, so she needed to know exactly how her mother cursed them and how to break it, and she needed to have a plan in case May couldn’t help her with that. “It’s my soul or the whole crew’s, and I’m the only one with a chance to get it back once it touches the other side.”

Daisy roughed her hands through her hair and paced some more. She tried to stop herself a couple of times but couldn’t do it. Daisy didn’t have a baseline to return to. The escalation of the nightly curse had proved too much for her and she couldn’t make it back to level sanity. “I’ve seen what happens when it’s gone, Jemma, you…” She bit into her bottom lip and crossed her arms, rolling her eyes upward to keep them from welling with tears. She shook her head. “We need to wait until we know what May knows or...can suggest,” she insisted. 

“I wasn’t going to do anything without discussing it with May first.” Jemma agreed. “I told you it was just an idea.” She shook her head and her eyes fell back into her lap. She honestly didn’t know how she was supposed to do any of this. Daisy wanted her to be safe, but to do that, they needed to take some risks first.

Daisy deflated but only minimally. She slowly stepped over and sat on the edge of the bed, looked down at her hands in her lap with great shame. "I ran after a kitten," she blurted, or stammered out really, as if from very far away. "I was four. It was, it was a-after the curse." She frowned at her hands as if she'd find some kind of answer by picking at her cuticles. "Almost sunset and I...I don't know what I was thinking, but...but I, um...I chased a kitten off the dock and into the streets of a city I knew nothing about and..." Her voice wasn't perfectly steady, it hitched here and there. "And...and now he's gone," she looked over at Jemma after telling the half story. "When it leaves...it doesn't come back," she spoke softly.

Jemma looked up, her face slowly evolving from confusion to horror. She remembered Daisy saying something about not being able to leave the ship at night and she knew something terrible had happened to Daisy’s father, but was only now starting to put the pieces together.    
  
“Your father...” Jemma said quietly. “What happened to him?” She asked. If she was going to be here, she wanted to know everything her mother had done to Daisy and her family and friends so she could try to make things right.

Daisy turned her eyes back to her lap. "He came looking for me. Scooped me up and ran but," Shit, she hadn't talked about this with anyone but her mother before. She'd talked about her dad with the crew members before of course but not this particular moment. "It was too late by the time..." she cleared her throat. "We made it to the docks too far from the ship and he...he threw me in the water but there wasn't any time," she roughly wiped a tear off her cheek. "It's not just the individual affliction," Daisy explained. "On land, after sundown...it separates you from your soul," she let it hang between them, knowing that once they reached Bilbao, Jemma could easily use this information against Daisy if she wanted to.    
  
"Ward," Daisy let out a derisive snort of laughter and shook her head. "Saw what my dad was doing and dove in after me so...so I wouldn't try and swim back to my dad," she sniffled quickly and shook her head. "My father, he, um...he lasted a few weeks but...b-but it wasn't him. He was just...a husk," she flinched again at the memory of what she'd done to her father. "He walked off the bow in the middle of one night and...and he was just...gone," she sniffled and looked over at Jemma. "When it leaves...it never comes back," and so she was terrified of the idea of Jemma freely letting her soul go elsewhere.

“Oh Daisy,” Jemma sighed. She reached out with one hand and caressed Daisy’s cheek, unsure how to comfort her. “I will never be able to make up for what my family has done to yours,” she started. “But even if it takes my soul, I’ll do my best to fix this.” She asserted. She knew Daisy didn’t want to lose her now, whether it only be because the situation reminded her of her father or for other reasons. Either way, she needed to make up for her father’s evils and her mother’s mistakes.

Daisy closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. She didn't tell Jemma the story to make her feel bad, of course. It had to be told when they were dealing with souls. Whatever happened in the next few hours, Daisy’s life and soul now lay in Jemma’s and Bobbi’s hands. Either one of them could turn on her. She was at their mercy and all she could do was trust now.   


_____   
  


Eventually later in the day the boat’s forward motion stopped, leaving only the back and forth swaying that came with being docked. Jemma hadn’t felt it in weeks since she first woke up on the ship, but she found she was quite relieved by it. It meant that she was going to be on land soon, however she knew they would have to be back by nightfall.   
  
“Are you sure there’s enough time?” Jemma asked as she tucked her dagger into the boots Daisy had given her to wear and conceal a weapon under her dress. She didn’t want to risk anything happening to Daisy, not after the story about her father. They were supposed to go find May and make sure she was still at the same address before they prepared to stay the night at the docks.

Daisy looked out the window up at the sun. She gave a solemn nod but she felt her own nerves beginning to amplify. This was it, this was going to be the test. Jemma could be leading her right into a trap. She’d never know until it was too late no matter how alert she was from the start. She had no reason to doubt Jemma’s sincerity other than Bobbi’s lingering voice in the back of her mind talking about the ability witches had lull people under a spell. She had to have faith in Jemma to survive this, so she did. She didn’t have as much faith in her land legs, though. The solidity of the dirt ground unnerved her, especially with a truncated amount of time before sundown. 

“We’ll be alright,” Daisy assured. “I’ll know about how much time we’ll have before turning back once I know for sure where the address is,” She adjusted the dress she was wearing, not at all used to the material as she was her pants, shirts and vests that made up her usual attire. She kept her cavalier boots under the dress, pulled up to just above the knee. Her dagger was tucked into a carefully hidden portion of the back waist of the dress that would allow her to pull it without the dagger being seen before but she had a second tucked into her right boot and a small loaded flintlock pistol tucked into the left. Her hair was brushed and down and she smoothed the material out down her torso as she tried to find some level of physical comfort. She headed to the door and opened it only to find Bobbi standing on the other side of it, dressed in a similar manner to the both of them. 

Surprised, Daisy blinked. “Are you coming along?” she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice, no opinion either way. Daisy worried that she was walking into a trap for herself sure, but leading Bobbi into a potential one was more unnerving. Bobbi had said she was going to make sure she would do what Daisy couldn’t in the event that Jemma couldn’t break the curse by other means so, this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Daisy. Her life was in both their hands, maybe it was fitting that they should both be with her if this were to be her true end. 

Jemma looked up at Bobbi with surprise when the door opened. Most of the crew she could figure out, it was easy to tell which side of the vote they were on, but Bobbi was another story. She was friendly one minute, stabbing her the next, apologizing, and then giving her mixed looks and signals. She was clearly undecided, but she figured she was leaning more toward Ward’s perspective by the look she was currently getting.   
  
“Don’t even think about running.” Bobbi said instead of answering Daisy. She crossed her arms over her chest and gestured with a nod of her head for them to follow her.

“She won’t,” Daisy assured confidently after exchanging a glance in Jemma’s direction. She gave Jemma’s elbow a gentle squeeze and then started to follow Bobbi out. She was careful to stick close to Jemma because she wanted to make sure Jemma’s leg didn’t give her any problems. She felt uneasy about not being able to bring her actual sword with her but there was nothing she could do about it so she tried to ignore it. 

Making their way off the boat, the trio headed down the dock and Daisy felt her pulse pick up. She glanced upward at the sky and squinted at the sun, shielding her eyes with her hand slightly just to make not of the sun’s location. “Well,” She knew it would be odd for three women to walk through town without talking. She tugged a small piece of paper from a small pouch along her belt. She unfolded the paper and came up with small hand drawn map she’d copied of Bilbao from the atlas based on the address Jemma had. “Looks like we’re going that way,” She indicated a way down the road from the docks that would take them through the market area of the docks and then towards a wooded area filled with scattered dwellings. “Is there anything else we should know about May before we get there?” She asked Jemma as they went. 

“She’s a bit...” Jemma searched her brain for a word that was fitting of her godmother that didn’t sound negative. When they stepped onto land, Jemma felt a bit disoriented by the solid ground and lack of movement at first, but it was a blessing to be back on dirt again, even if only for an evening. “Grumpy.” She frowned, trying not to sound like May would be trouble to deal with. “I wouldn’t let on that I am a captive, she has always been very strong.” She explained using the most subtle words possible. Jemma thought May could be scary before she knew she was probably a witch.    
  
As they walked past the market and an orchard and made their way into the more clustered part of the city, filled with apartments and cobbled paths, Jemma caught sight of a large crowd in a square, chanting something in spanish. They had to pass through to get to where May resided, and Jemma felt a wave of nausea worse than her seasickness overwhelm her when she saw the top of a gallows.    
  
“Matar a la bruja! Matar a la bruja!” Jemma heard them shouting. She could see a black hood over the heads of the crowd covering the face of a woman dressed in rags and covered in blood. Jemma looked to Daisy and Bobbi, wondering if either of them spoke spanish.   
  
“Kill the witch.” Bobbi translated quietly so nobody around them could hear over the shouting. Jemma swallowed a lump in her throat and stared at her feet before she heard a cacophony of shouts and the sound of wood creaking and metal hinges squeaking. Her eyes betrayed her and she risked a glance, no longer spotting the woman as the platform had dropped and she was low and out of sight. Jemma unconsciously rubbed her neck with her hand and wondered what might happen if any of the Spanish people in the city found out who they were. 

Daisy was a half pace behind Jemma to her left. She watched the scene play out with a grim frown on her face but reached out to touch Jemma’s arm with one hand as if it could provide some kind of reassurance. “We shouldn't linger long,” She nodded toward a gap in the crowd they could use to edge through and continue on their way. She didn’t want to think about what was happening in this courtyard and how it could affect all of them and she didn’t want to think about Jemma being hanged. They also didn’t want to draw too much attention by staying still and they were working on limited time. 

Jemma nodded and continued to push through the crowd, making sure never to get more than a pace or two away from Daisy and Bobbi so they wouldn’t assume she was about to make an escape. Eventually, the shouting faded behind them and they worked their way through cobble streets and tall apartments to get to May’s residence. They managed to find the door on ground level where May supposedly lived and Jemma paused to look behind her for approval before knocking. Bobbi nodded, but as Jemma raised her hand, the door opened before her knuckles could even touch it. There stood May, looking quite a bit frazzled.    
  
“I’ve been expecting you. Come in,” May stepped aside and gestured for them to enter.

Daisy  arched her eyebrows. Bobbi hesitated next to her and Daisy frowned. That kind of wording made both Daisy and Bobbi uneasy. Yes, the women were witches, but they hadn’t been in contact while Jemma had been on the ship. Daisy shifted her hand toward the right side of her lower back as if she were just hitching up her dress to follow Jemma inside but she was moving in so she could grab her dagger at a moment’s notice if they really were stepping right into a trap. 

“So you’ve finally discovered your blood.” May ushered them into the living room and onto a few couches of the small apartment. She gave Daisy and Bobbi a glare, but poured tea into four pre prepared teacups, like she knew exactly how many people would be in her apartment.    
  
“It has come to my attention, yes.” Jemma replied, skipping past greetings and going straight into business. May had never been the sentimental type, and she was sure May already knew all she needed to know based on the look on her face.

Daisy felt unease under May's glare, but if she knew they were coming, what else did she know about Jemma’s predicament as being their captive? Even though the tea for all of them came from the same pot, Daisy didn't reach for her cup. She glanced toward the shadows cast from the sun shining through the window and made a mental note of the time based on it. If May knew why they were here and her glare revealed she knew who Daisy and Bobbi were, then surely she knew they only had a short amount of time to speak, at least for today. Daisy wondered if the plan was to delay their leaving so Daisy and Bobbi had to make a run for it and leave Jemma behind. She resisted the urge to reach out for Jemma to reassure herself that Jemma wasn't playing her, that they were in this together as they'd said in their talks in Daisy's cabin. As discreetly as possible, Daisy took slow, even breaths in through her nose and imperceptibly exhaled them through her mouth to level out her pulse.

“I was hoping you may know of the curse my mother cast before she died...” Jemma started. She sipped on the tea to be polite and noted Daisy and Bobbi’s discomfort, but she needed to get whatever information she could in this short period of time before they had to go back to the ship. “Specifically, how I might be able to break it. I need you to teach me witchcraft.” She requested, waiting anxiously for a response.   
  
“Your mother and I practice very differently,” May began, “I may be unable to help you with this particular curse. Your mother was a very private woman and even I couldn’t see the truth sometimes.” She explained.    
  
“But can you at least help me learn the trade?” Jemma asked hopefully, already planning to ask about her idea from the ship earlier about the other side.    
  
“I’m afraid not.” May said grimly, a frown on her face. “Spain is a very dangerous place, I am here to help witches escape, not groom them to be hanged or burned. You are safest away from here.” She said sternly. May glanced at Daisy and Bobbi, like she knew of their situation and tried to make them understand that even they were safer for Jemma than Bilbao.    
  
“But I need to learn, I-“ Jemma started, but May interrupted.    
  
“And you will. But not here.” May said with quite a bit of mystique. She stood from her seat on the couch and moved to the corner of the room, where she picked up a large wooden crate and placed it on the table between the couches. “You’ve always been a good self study. You use these books and supplies and you’ll learn.” May promised her, gesturing to the ancient books in the crate which sat alongside a small cauldron and sorted boxes and pouches of supplies and ingredients.    
  
Jemma swallowed a lump in her throat as she saw where this was going. She was going to have to learn herself on the ship, which meant she would be holed up in Daisy’s cabin working desperately to find a solution on her own.   
  
“If I want to break the curse, I need to find out how, and to do that-“ Jemma began to bring up her idea.   
  
“You need to ask your mother for that.” May nodded. It was like she knew what Jemma was going to say before she said it and it was slightly unnerving. “My family has always been good at foresight.” May explained. “But yours, your family is talented in affairs of the soul, whether dead or alive, spell or curse.” She added. Jemma’s eyes widened and she looked to Daisy with guilt in her eyes. Her family’s specialty was in souls and the dead, which meant she could contact her mother, but it was also the cause of the curse’s manner and Daisy’s father’s death. As Jemma thought about it, she had had a few too many imaginary friends as a child that seemed all too realistic.    
  
“I-“ Jemma opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. May glanced at the window and stood again, gesturing to the door.   
  
“It is time for you to leave. I would not return unless absolutely necessary.” May told her. “I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors, I hope you’ll be safe.”

Daisy frowned when May glanced their way. She might not have foresight but she could read into that expression. The danger to all of them had been palpable to all of them before they'd come across the hanging. Now Daisy felt the gravity of its full magnitude. She showed no outward signs of her real anxiety other than her unease at being in May's place. She stiffened but kept quiet, listening intently as Jemma asked about her idea. She felt her stomach bottom out at the new information about what Jemma's family specialized in and, for a very brief moment there was a hot swell of anger the filled her belly. She forced it down and examined the crate that May laid out. Then, just like that, they were dismissed. Daisy glanced at the angle of the light coming through the windows and knew they couldn't linger.    
  
After ensuring the lid was properly secured on the crate, Daisy stood and picked it up, resisted lifting it up to rest on her shoulder to carry since she knew it would look odd moving through the streets. With a heavy heart, she made her way with Bobbi and Jemma to the door and outside. The rushed visit did not bode well. The others had delayed their freedom for some time now while their hardships magnified. How would Daisy convince them to wait it out? Even Bobbi has passed the point of waiting. Her fears over Jemma losing her soul started morphing into fears of losing her own as the sky began to grow into light shades of orange on their trek back go the ship.  
  
“Thank you, May. Until next time.” Jemma waved as they left and May just nodded with a grim look on her face. It made Jemma wonder what she’d seen.    
  
They hurried back through town, skirting around where the hanging took place and walking briskly to avoid having to run as the sun went down. They got back to the ship and most of the crew was on deck staring as Jemma was ushered back into Daisy’s cabin before they broke the news that May couldn’t help and they’d be going back to sea.    
  
“You’d better start reading.” Bobbi commented as they got into Daisy’s quarters.    
  
“If there’s one thing I can do, it’s that.” Jemma assured her. The crate was placed on Daisy’s desk and Jemma wanted to get to looking through it and seeing what she had to work with.

Daisy felt a level of defeat on the scale of the incident with her father's lost soul. She wasn't sure if the gravity of it was due to the void or if she was just seeing the full scope of reality with this situation. She hesitated and then looked at Jemma. Though she wanted to stay and try and help, Daisy could already tell she would only be a hindrance as the night took over. "I'll have Kamala bring you supper, but I think it'll be best if I leave you to this on your own so as to keep from slowing your progress," Her anxious eyes met Jemma's. Outwardly, Daisy was still the picture of calm but her eyes betrayed her, especially so with Jemma.

“I’ll study up.” Jemma nodded. She hated to not be able to cuddle with Daisy as she struggled with the curse, but if she spent all night reading then maybe she could try to actually do something the next day.

Daisy nodded. "Thank you," she said in earnest. She walked around to the cabinet she usually hung her sword belt and stowed her key there. Quickly, she ducked behind the dressing shield and made her way out of the uncomfortable dress and into her regular clothes, the leather pants, and her white shirt with the loose long sleeves, her vest over top. She tugged her boots on and folded them below her knees then tied her hair back with a bandana cloth and tied her sword belt at an angle around her waist with the knowledge that she might need to use it against her own crew at some point in the night. She spared another longing glance at Jemma before she let herself out of the cabin, though she waited with her back to the door to hear the locks turn into place. Daisy faced the daunting task of explaining this to the crew  _ while _ their afflictions were raging through them.

______________

After Daisy found Kamala and instructed her to make a larger tray than normal to deliver for Jemma, Daisy began to make her way back toward the upper deck, hoping that she could climb into the crow’s nest and try to meditate for at least part of the night. She made it only to the second floor from the third lowest before she was stopped. The shadow that crossed her path belonged to Ward who stood blocking the stairs, arms crossed and rage in his eyes. Daisy could practically see steam rising from his ears as he glared at her.   
  
"Ward..." Daisy said his name slowly, calm. "Please fight it..." she knew she was mostly speaking to herself with the plea. Ward had always had trouble controlling his curse because his curse worked on his anger and made him even more irrational than some of the others and their afflictions. It was too much to hope she'd get out of this without a fight, but Daisy would do whatever she could to try. There was a time when Daisy and Ward were thick as thieves, but those days were long gone now.

“Why do we have to fight it when we can break it?” Ward snarled, taking one step down closer to Daisy. His aggression and rage was unstoppable, and that was his curse. He couldn’t go a night without picking a fight and Daisy happened to be his target of choice because it was easy for him to be angry with her. “The other witch isn’t helping, which means we’re leaving our fate in the hands of a self taught witch who could just as easily con us.” He growled. “If you won’t do what needs to be done then I will.”

Daisy struggled to remain calm. Her mind raced. She shifted her weight, resting so she was on the balls of her feet, prepared to move out of the way of any attack that Ward might launch on her. Her hands remained at her sides but her fingers curled loosely, preparing to tighten into fists if needs be, but she did still try to reason with him. Daisy didn’t want to fight Ward. She would if it came down to it, but she didn’t want to.  _ How many members of your family will you dispatch of for that woman? _ The voice at the back of her mind, the one belonging to the void, asked.  _ Why are you hurting them?  _ “The other witch didn’t have a choice. She gave Jemma the tools. Jemma’s willingly risking her life to help us after we’ve kidnapped, beat and stabbed her.” Daisy said. “We owe it to her to let her try before we turn to murderers,” She insisted.  _ Do you, really? Jemma’s parents preyed on innocent children. There’s a price to be paid; hers is the pound of flesh to take to freedom.  _ Daisy flinched around the outside corners of her eyes, fought against the swell of bile that rose in the back of her throat. She needed to ignore her thoughts and prepare for Ward. Daisy knew she wasn’t getting out of a physical altercation with him. She started trying to plot her strategy. Her best bet would be to work to knock him out. As soon as she could make an escape, she would bolt to the crow’s nest to take refuge. It was the only real plan she could make in this situation. 

“We don’t owe her anything.” Ward snapped right back, balling his fists and clenching his jaw. “One life lost is better than letting our whole crew wither away and die.” Ward reasoned, though he was quickly becoming less and less reasonable. “Give me the key.” He demanded. He took another step down the stairs to get closer. “Give me the key or I’ll take it.”

“We’re  _ not _ murderers.  _ She _ didn’t do this to us.” Daisy clenched her jaw, resisted her own desire to be free of the pain, insecurity and emptiness that plagued her. She shifted her weight subtly, making it seem like nerves as she positioned herself at a better angle for when Ward attempted spring an attack. “I don’t have a key,” Daisy told him. Even if she did have a key, she took comfort, however minute, in knowing Jemma would have the door barred from them breaking in.  _ Fight it, Ward _ , she mentally plead, though she didn’t say it outloud this time.  _ He shouldn't have to anymore, _ the void snapped back at her. 

“Fine.” Ward grumbled. If Daisy wasn’t going to give him what he wanted then he was going to take it. Instead of throwing a punch, with a ferocious growl, he dropped his shoulder and dove down the stairs, sending the both of them tumbling to the bottom. He happened to land on top and he straddled Daisy, pulling a fist back behind his head before an assault.

Daisy put her hands up as she saw Ward’s shoulder drop and managed to brace herself, though the tumble was wild as gravity took them down the stairs. She saw stars in her vision as the back of her head slammed into one of the wooden stairs on the way down and Ward’s weight on her waist and lower torso knocked the wind out of her when they landed but Daisy had swift reflexes. She’d trained for years in sparring just like Ward had and her mother had been much tougher on her in fighting lessons than she had ever been with the others. For this, Daisy was thankful as she balled her right hand into a tight fist and wrapped her left hand around it equally tight and swung the tightly packed ball of fists as hard as she could at Ward’s torso. The blow landed directly as aimed at his solar plexus with a massive enough force that, as it caused his diaphragm to spasm, it also sent his momentum backward and off her to her right side. Because it opened up different vulnerable areas to her, Daisy pulled her hands apart, sprung up to her knees and curled her hands into tight fists. Immediately she swung two punches, throwing all her weight behind both of them, the first one hit the mid part of his side directly against his lowest floating rib. The second punch she deliberately hooked so it hit the back of his side, knowing the force of the punch would deliver a swift, forceful shot to his liver. No person she had ever delivered this punch to could recover immediately. 

Daisy knew the curse was strong but this would give her enough time to back up and put space between them as he had to recover and catch his breath from the combination of blows. Her last punch was just barely pulled slightly so she knew she wouldn’t rupture his liver with it but would incapacitate him just enough to give her reaction time. He might have been bigger than Daisy and more muscular, but Daisy had quick reflexes and well trained, strong attacks. She bounced back on her toes once she reached them and fought against the wave of dizziness that hit her from the hit she’d sustained to the back of her head when they’d rolled down the stairs. “Don’t do this, Ward!” She tried again to talk him down from it as she checked her surroundings to make sure no one else could sneak up on her. 

Ward grunted and heaved, but got to his feet and blew hot air from his nose, like he was a raging bull that only got angrier the more he was fought. “Someone is going to die, be it the witch or one of us.” He snarled at Daisy, clenching his fists and starting to move in a tight circle around her, occasionally throwing a missed punch and withdrawing in time to evade any potential attack from Daisy. “Just give me the key!” He shouted angrily and charged forward, shoving Daisy into the corner he’d slowly backed her into.

Daisy ducked his initial attacks, her eyes watching his feet to figure out which way he was going to come at her. She couldn’t stop the painful jolt to her lower back and hips from the counter when he rammed into her. “I don’t have it!” Daisy snarled, her own anger flaring. When she found herself nearly immobile with his hands pinning her arms bent at the elbows so his hands were around her wrists as they were forced against her shoulders and his weight leaned on her on the counter, she only had one option to break free as Ward threatened to kill her. Her adrenaline surged and Daisy clenched her jaw and swung her forehead forward just as Ward was leaning toward her to make another threat. She felt the crack as her forehead broke his nose and effectively broke his hold. With the new surge of adrenaline, Daisy knew she only had this chance to take him out and make an escape. 

As Ward closed in, raging at her through his bloody nose, Daisy crouched, her fists balled, arms bent at the elbows to hold them up by her face. When he was at just the right angle over her, Daisy pushed with all the force in her legs she could and pivoted upward throwing both fists up as hard as she could with the weight of her entire upper torso behind it. The resulting blow to the underside of his chin knocked Ward’s jaw together and threw him wobbling backward. Daisy bounced on her toes, re-positioned herself and as he surged forward with a guttural scream of rage to charge her again, Daisy charged back and just before their collision, she took a flying leap and swung her right knee up as high as she could, leading with it. The hard bones of her knee struck ward in the throat and underside of his jaw again. The heavy momentum threw him back and he landed, slamming his head into the wall as he fell. 

Daisy ran. She almost tumbled forward on the way up the stairs and was scrambling so fast for a moment, she worked her hands and her feet to pull herself swiftly up the stairs to the next deck. She raced to the upper deck and collided with Lincoln, one of the unafflicted crew who worked at night to keep the ship sailing. Daisy gathered him and two of the others. She instructed them to go below decks to gather Ward since he was unconscious, tend to his wounds to make sure he didn’t asphyxiate and then to lock him in the brig for his own safety afterward. With adrenaline shaking through her limbs and against her better judgement because of her dizzy spell, Daisy climbed as quickly as she could up into the crow’s nest, fearing she’d be unable to do it once her adrenaline drained. She dropped into the bucket of the crow’s nest and grimaced as she touched the back of her head. Her hand come back sticky as the welt from their tumble down the stairs was bleeding. The left side of her mouth was swollen and her bottom lip was cut and bleeding and though her right eye wasn’t swollen shut there was a very large bruise forming. Her left cheek had also sustained a blow that left a bloody gash in its wake. 

_ Mutiny _ , the void sung out to her,  _ it’s coming for youuuu. Once they find out what you’ve done. Just you wait until morning...if you make it that long. _ “Shut up!” Daisy dug her fingers into her scalp at the sides of her head.  _ All you have to do is give them what they want.  _ The void taunted her.  _ Give yourself what you deserve - a good night’s rest for once in your life. Why are you fighting your fate?  _ Daisy forced herself to sit up with her back straight and her legs tucked under her properly. She forced her eyes closed as she rested her shaking hands on her knees and she began to breathe as slowly as she could make herself breathe, to force her breath under her own control. There she fought against her internal struggles and there she stayed for hours until the sun came up. 

Barely able to carry herself, Daisy managed to climb down without falling. Kamala gathered her supply pouch when she dropped off Jemma’s breakfast and Daisy delivered it to Lincoln and asked him to make the rounds checking on the others. She made her way to her cabin and leaned against the door for a moment, eyes bloodshot, face bruised and covered in dry blood, hair at the back of her head matted to the dried blood against the egg shaped welt at the back of her head, her knees wobbling under her. She knocked on the door. “Jemma,” she called just loud enough to hopefully be heard. She didn’t register anything after the door opened other than slipping past Jemma, inside the cabin and forcing her legs to carry her to the bed, which she fell half into face first with her legs hanging over the side from her knees down, unable to make herself move any further after that. 

“Daisy?” Jemma questioned when her companion slipped by her quietly and collapsed onto the bed. She shut and locked the door behind her before turning to get a good look at her.   
  
“Daisy!” Jemma said again in a completely different tone once she saw the blood. It was a tone filled with immense concern and she rushed to Daisy’s aid despite being sleep deprived herself from all those hours reading the books on witchcraft. “What on earth happened to you?” She questioned, already moving to dip a cloth in the water basin and bringing it back, along with Daisy’s homemade medication for bruises. She dabbed the back of Daisy’s head carefully, concern etched across her face in the form of a frown and worry lines along with pursed lips.

Daisy’s muscles tensed and flinched, a groan expelled from her throat as Jemma worked at the back of her head. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment and didn’t make another sound for a long while. She couldn’t muster the energy to even roll over. “...Ward,” She murmured eventually and even that felt like it took too much from what little energy she had left. She would have to roll over eventually and then Jemma would see the damage to her face as well. “Books?” she eventually managed to ask, unsure if Jemma had found anything useful through the night. She just wanted to sleep.  _ You could _ , that voice at the back of her mind found its way to her even in the daytime.  _ You could sleep forever. Just because you won’t take her life doesn’t mean you can’t take your own... _ Daisy felt the burn in the bridge of her nose as hot tears sprung from the corners of her closed eyes.  _ Go away _ , she thought to herself, mustering a pathetic mental fight against the lingering void,  _ you’re not really there _ , she tried to insist against her own other intrusive thoughts. A shiver rolled through her and she couldn’t hide it. 

“The books have had enough of my attention.” Jemma sighed. She tried to hide the little shiver of horror that went down her spine just remembering the beating Ward had given her that first day and the threat he’d delivered more recently. He was still going around hurting Daisy and the others and it was just one more reason for her to get started on breaking the curse. It could wait a little while, however, because Daisy needed care. “Let me give you my attention for a little while.” Jemma cooed. She pressed a light kiss to Daisy’s forehead and started to apply the gel to help with the bruising, all the while trying not to frown.

Daisy’s vision blurred slightly when Jemma kissed her.  _ Traitor _ , the void reminded her. Did she deserve such treatment after everything? She wasn’t sure. Worse, she wasn’t sure if her doubt about it was her own or the void’s. She was too weak in that moment to fight it. All she could do was close her eyes and nod as Jemma took care of her wounds. She didn’t last very long before she was asleep, simply no energy left to remain conscious and find out more from Jemma. 


	7. To Fix This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no see! How's it going? 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> <3
> 
> ____________________

“It’s going to work.” Jemma promised. “It has to work.” She didn’t know if she was trying to convince Daisy or herself, but either way the words gave her slight reassurance that this was the right thing to do. After spending all night reading and all morning tending to Daisy’s wounds, it was time for her to attempt witchcraft. With Ward’s outward threats and growing discontent among the rest of the crew, Jemma didn’t have time to practice small spells first. She needed to figure out how to break the curse, and to do that she needed to contact her mother.   
  
Candles were arranged in a circle on the wooden plank floor and Jemma stepped inside of it to start lighting them all. The energy she needed to send her soul across the barrier to the other side and back was supposed to come mostly from within herself, but if she needed to she could pull it from the many small fires around her. Traveling to speak to the dead was said in the book to require immense concentration and willpower, and luckily for Jemma she felt she was very strong in those categories, especially with her own life, Daisy’s, and the whole crew’s at stake. It was going to work.   
  
Bobbi was in the room with Daisy to help watch over them in case anything went wrong, and also because she was curious. The door to Daisy’s quarters was locked and barred as usual to keep out any interruptions and Jemma sighed once she lit the last candle and sat down in the middle of the circle, legs crossed and hands resting on her knees.    
  
“Remember. Whatever you do, don’t interrupt me.” Jemma reminded Daisy. The book had specifically warned not to have interruptions, as it could disconnect the soul from the body while it was traveling. This was a risky spell, but it needed to be done.

Daisy had recouped a good bit of her energy, having also been forced to eat by both Jemma and Bobbi once she’d woken. Still, her mental health wasn’t holding up so well. Concern was etched deeply into her face as she watched Jemma and everything surrounding her. She tried not to frown at Jemma’s attempt to reassure them. She felt the unease in her gut as Jemma delivered the final warning. Daisy nodded, confirming that she’d heard Jemma, but it was clear that she didn’t like this. She fought to keep her thoughts in the present and not in the past with her father and his lost soul. She wanted to ask if Jemma was absolutely sure about this but she forced herself not to. She didn’t need to shake Jemma’s confidence. “We’ll be here when you get back,” She said instead, trying to reassure them both. Daisy was glad Bobbi was there because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to witness this on her own and if she needed it, she knew Bobbi would stop her from interrupting. 

Jemma took a deep breath, closed her eyes, sat up straight, and started murmuring a repeated phrase in latin that she’d read in the spell book. As she did, she consciously forced herself to visualize her soul as a separate entity from her body. As Jemma started to build a stronger control over her soul, the chanting in latin got louder and more forceful without her even being aware of it. Once she felt she had enough control, she tried to visualize all those she knew who had passed away and sent her soul to find them, pushing her way through the solid barrier between the two realms. On the outside, her body jolted, her eyes rolled back into her head, lids open slightly, and the chanting stopped, but on the inside, in Jemma’s soul, she was on the other side.   
  
Everything was white. Jemma was standing in a room with a white floor beneath her feet and infinite and cloudy white walls and no apparent ceiling. She spun in a circle, but it was the same in every direction. Where had she gone? Was she even in the right place?    
  
“Hello, dear Jemma.” A female voice boomed behind her. Jemma spun around and there stood the most beautiful woman Jemma had ever seen, wearing a white dress just as pure as the infinity of the other side around them. It was her mother.

Daisy watched with growing distress as she knelt outside the area Jemma had setup. She felt genuine panic in her chest when she saw Jemma’s eyes roll up. She felt instant regret that she was allowing this whole thing to happen. Something just wasn't sitting right in her gut and she struggled to figure out if it was the void's affect influencing her or if she should have more faith in her instincts and gut feelings. Reflexively, she shifted and started to reach toward the other woman.

“Don’t touch her!” Bobbi warned and smacked Daisy’s hand away. She didn’t know what could count as an interruption that would be enough to stop the process. Despite everything that had happened, Bobbi didn’t want the girl to lose her soul.    
  
____________   
  
“Hello, Mother.” Jemma said softly, just staring in disbelief. It was astounding to her that she was currently where the dead go, and that her mother was right in front of her eyes. She only remembered her mother through paintings and foggy memories from her early childhood. She had always idolized her mother, but now she saw her as villainous because of what she’d done to Daisy.    
  
“I always hoped you would discover your talents and come to visit.” Her mother said. She moved closer and it looked as though she was floating instead of taking steps, glittering white dress flowing in a wind that wasn’t there. When they were eye to eye, Jemma’s mother lifted her hands and cradled Jemma’s face. Eyes watering, Jemma took a step back and refused the affection. She was here on business and knew she couldn’t stay long.   
  
“You made a mistake.” Jemma asserted. “You thought you cursed a crew of pirates that killed my merchant father, but you really cursed the survivors of father’s child slave trade.” She delivered the news quickly and honestly so her mother would have time to absorb it and tell her how to break the curse before she had to go. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck here and force Daisy to see her shell of a body before they had to kill her.    
  
“That’s not true. Your father was a good man.” Her mother argued. It was easy to see she was getting angry with the accusations, and Jemma had taken it the same way.    
  
“A good man who sold children?” Jemma questioned. “Daisy is a good person.”    
  
“Daisy?” Her mother asked.   
  
“The current captain of the cursed ship.” Jemma explained. “She was only an infant when you cursed her, and the others were only mere children. The original crew you wanted to spite are gone.” She insisted.   
  
“Is this Daisy the daughter of Cal Johnson?” Her mother asked the question, to which Jemma nodded.   
  
“Cal Johnson killed your father.” Her mother growled.    
  
“Only because he had to in order to save the children!” Jemma countered. “And Daisy didn’t do it!” Her anger was endangering her concentration as she thought about Daisy in the true world and she had to check herself to make sure her soul didn’t slip.   
  
__________   
  
Back in Jemma’s real body, her eyelids began to twitch and a small stream of blood started down to her lip from one nostril, and as it passed over her mouth and headed for her chin, the other side of her nose started to bleed.

Daisy felt the panic as her heart started pounding. "Jemma," she breathed as she watched the two streams of blood. Without giving it proper thought, Daisy lunged this time toward Jemma in her panicked fear. If it hadn't been for Bobbi, she likely would have made contact with the twitching, bleeding woman who was currently separated from her own soul.

“You can’t, Daisy!” Bobbi grabbed onto Daisy and pinned her arms at her sides, pulling her a few steps away to make sure she didn’t touch Jemma while she was in such a dangerous state.    
  
_________   
  
“Mother, you have to help me break the curse.” Jemma pleaded. She wasn’t getting anywhere and her mother was refusing to believe that her husband had done anything wrong. She maintained the idea that he had been murdered by pirates instead of the actual truth.    
  
“I can’t do that.” Jemma’s mother shook her head and refused once again, causing anger to build up in Jemma’s mind. She was unable to convince her.   
  
“You could just stay here with me.” Her mother offered. She held out a hand, asking Jemma to take it, but Jemma knew that an offer from the dead could lead to her soul becoming a part of the other side, and she needed to get back. She knew that if she lost her soul then Bobbi or Ward could just kill her body and break the curse, but she couldn’t do that to Daisy, so she had to find out how to break it and get back.   
  
“I can’t, Mother.” Jemma shook her head and took a step back. She was beginning to tire already and had to pull some energy from an outside source to stay where she was.   
  
_________   
  
Again, Jemma’s body started bleeding, but this time the warm dribbles of thick, red blood were dripping from the insides of her ears, rolling down her jawline and meeting with the blood from the nosebleed at her throat. Her body was still twitching slightly and one of the candles flickered and burned out, leaving a small trail of smoke whipping around the room.

_ She's dying! _ Daisy thought but didn't shout at Bobbi because she knew it didn't matter to Bobbi if that happened. It mattered to Daisy. It had mattered before the kidnapping on a moral level where she didn't want anyone on her crew bearing the mark of killing an innocent woman on their soul. Since then, it mattered for so many more reasons, ones she knew the others didn't and wouldn't understand. She struggled against Bobbi’s hold but couldn't break free. She wasn't even aware of it as it happened but she began murmuring pleas up to her own mother; if Jemma's mother was still around in death, perhaps Daisy's was too because of the curse and she simply couldn't see her because she wasn't plugged into that connection like Jemma had the power to be, so she begged for her mother’s help to bring Jemma’s soul back to them, to keep her safe so they could break this plague together without losing another person. 

The words tumbled from her lips in an unending stream of despair. She couldn't be responsible for losing another soul, not another one and specifically not this one. She felt hot tears spring to her eyes as she remembered those last few weeks with her father, remembered those from her parent's crew that purposefully stepped from the ship to land after nightfall and began equating them with what was happening to Jemma. So Daisy begged and kept begging as the husk of Jemma's body twitched and bled with no way of knowing what was happening to her on the other side.

________   
  
“Please, Mother.” Jemma begged. She wasn’t getting any of the information she needed no matter how many times she explained the innocence of those who were afflicted by the curse. Her mother truly was lacking compassion and because she was a witch, it was damning Daisy’s whole crew. All she got was another refusal and an offer to stay. She felt herself slowly running out of energy and she didn’t know how long she could stay on the other side while maintaining a tie to her physical body.    
  
_________   
  
On the outside, candles started flicking out one by one as Jemma retrieved the energy she needed, but it wasn’t enough. Her eyelids were twitching over the whites of her eyes and occasionally she blinked, but it began to send red tears rolling down her cheeks and mingling with the other sources of blood until her face, jaw, and neck were covered in small streams of it, creating quite a demonic look.

Daisy's blurred vision flicked to the candles as they started flickering out, jumping between the ghastly vision of Jemma's bloody face and each candle in the circle as it went out. "Candles," she cut her pleas to her mother off to blurt the word out. With renewed energy she struggled against Bobbi’s grip as she remembered Jemma’s explanation about the candles and pulling energy from the flames. 

"We have to light the candles!" Daisy barely managed to break free from Bobbi’s grip and practically slid across the floor to Jemma grabbing one of the long matches from a nearby tin. She struck the end of it hurriedly against the floor and began adding flames back to candles as they flickered out, working furiously until the match burned down to her fingers before lighting another and doing it all over again and again. The pleas returned from her tongue, this time alternating between begging for help from her own mother and begging for Jemma to come back between sniffles and tremors of fear.

____________   
  
After another failed plea and denied request, Jemma’s mother disappeared, fading into the white expanse of the other side. Another figure appeared, however, and Jemma recognized it immediately even without ever seeing her face.   
  
“Daisy.” Jemma gasped. The two women looked so similar, Jemma just knew it had to be her.    
  
“Daisy is my daughter.” The woman said. Jemma’s eyes widened and she took a step forward, reaching out as if to see if she were real. Daisy’s mother backed away, not wanting Jemma to touch her and become one with the other side. “My daughter is asking for me to send you back.” She said calmly. Jemma frowned, wondering how Daisy could have possibly sent her a message across the barrier. It meant that relatives could still listen to those in the physical realm after they transitioned to the other side, which was both comforting and disturbing. She needed to get an answer for Daisy though.    
  
“Cal, is he-“   
  
“My husband’s soul is not here. His is trapped, separated from his body in the physical realm.” Jaiying nearly snapped. It sounded bitter and Jemma couldn’t blame her, she was in fact the daughter of the witch that did this.    
  
“How do I fix it?” Jemma cried. She doubted Jiaying would know the answer but her own mother had refused, so it was worth trying.    
  
“Your mother will not help you.” Jiaying said. “You have to do it yourself. Now go.” Just as quickly as Jiaying had appeared, she disappeared, and Jemma was left alone in the vast expanse of white. Her energy was at a critically low level and her vision was starting to go dark, so she did as Jiaying said by closing her eyes, focusing on the feeling of her body, and snapping back into it.   
  
___________   
  
Jemma’s body suddenly jolted as all the candles went out at once. Amidst the smoke, Daisy would see her eyes return to normal for a brief moment before they closed and she collapsed, bloody and exhausted on the cabin’s floor.

Daisy's head snapped up when all the candles went out at once and she froze as her eyes briefly locked with Jemma's. She lunged forward but couldn't make it in time to catch Jemma fully, though she managed to make sure Jemma’s head didn't slam into the wood floor. She cradled Jemma's head carefully, grabbed the bottom of her shirt and used it to begin wiping the blood off Jemma's face. She could see that Jemma was breathing  which was the only minor relief she had at the moment. "Jem," she murmured her name as she wiped the blood on her face. "Please wake up," was this just because of exhausted energy? Was this worse than that? Was Jemma's soul really back in place or had that just been momentary before the collapse? Daisy had no way of knowing. All she knew was Jemma was bleeding from all the orifices that told Daisy from all the training she'd received from her mother (however flawed or not) in the past that her brain was possibly bleeding from what she'd done to crossover or through or whatever. Daisy didn't know what to do.

“Let’s get her on the bed to rest.” Bobbi placed a hand on Daisy’s shoulder and then moved to Jemma’s legs so they’d be able to pick her up.

Daisy felt numb as she and Bobbi scooped Jemma up and carried her to the bed. She went, with shaking hands, and gathered a damp washcloth and a dry one before returning to the bed. She sat down on the edge of the bed and gingerly began cleaning off Jemma's face and ears, trying to keep her hands as steady as she could. What would the crew think of this when Bobbi told them? What could she possibly do to continue delaying them a little longer? She was absolutely prepared to defend Jemma with her life, because it wouldn't matter anyway. Daisy would never escape the void even if Jemma’s death cured the curse for her, she knew that with every fiber of her being. So what was she to do?

________   
  


Jemma woke to the sounds of chains clanking and clattering against themselves and the wooden floors and her eyes flashed open. Her body felt heavy, too drained of energy to move. She gathered that it was nighttime from the darkness in the room and the stars out the window by the bed, which meant that the chains were the sounds that Daisy made as she shuffled around in the corner.    
  
“Daisy? Are you there?” Jemma called. She managed to turn her head and spotted her shadow in the corner. It gave her a sinking feeling in her gut and she wondered what had happened while she was away.

  
Daisy tried to stay at the bedside with Jemma for as long as she possibly could into the night. For a while after Bobbi left, Daisy had laid down next to Jemma, gently stroking her hair and trying to speak softly to her in the hopes that it might wake her up. She knew, logically at least, that the ordeal Jemma had just gone through had to have taken all of her energy because of the way she’d spoken about drawing energy from the candle flames and those had repeatedly flickered out while Daisy had scrambled to keep them lit.    
  
As the night grew darker, Daisy’s thoughts darkened with it. The turmoil in her stomach had proved so overwhelming that she’d staggered from the bed and had barely made it to the open window before she retched up the contents of her stomach.  Quickly ridding herself of everything save for her pants and her still shirt (still bloodied from wiping off Jemma’s face) so she didn’t have anything sharp on her, Daisy had forced herself into the corner, where she’d shackled both of her ankles as a precaution. From there it had been a steady fight against her own mind that came at her with unyielding force and rage the likes of which she had never experienced in her life to the point that it had slowly but steadily began eroding the entire fabric of Daisy’s reality.   
  
By the time Jemma woke, Daisy had devolved into shell shocked, trembling mess. Her eyes were open in the dark and, had anyone been able to see them, they would have seen nothing but pupil where her irises should have been. They were glassed over with tears that occasionally spilled down her cheeks. She had been curled up, knees to her chest, arms around her legs and rocking back and forth against the corner where the two walls met but the chain shuffling occurred when she sunk to her side on the floor. 

Her forearms, collar and neck were a mess of half bloody, half scabbed scratches into her skin by her nails. Her scalp was a mess of small scabbed over cuts she’d dug into it while fighting with herself, as if she’d tried to pry the skin of her scalp free to get to the nagging voice inside her brain. The wood planks of the floor around her contained gouged scratches made with her now mangled fingernails, leaving splinters behind all about her fingers and bloodied nail beds. The shackles had nothing beneath them to cushion their rubbing and as a result the skin of her ankles was inflamed, red and breaking in places whenever her body struggled against the too tight confines.Her whole body trembled uncontrollably as she tried to rock herself into some sort of solace. Her jaw moved as she murmured desperate pleas to herself in the dark, breathing erratically because she felt like she was suffocating under the weight of her own guilt and insecurities. She was beyond panic attack. Sniffles interrupted her steady, barely whispered litany every so often. She was so far gone she never registered the movement on the bed or even Jemma’s voice calling out to her.

“Daisy,” Jemma said quietly. She grunted and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. With great effort, she managed to slide out of bed and start a slow walk over to the corner. When she got closer, she could see the shape Daisy was in. She was covered in blood and wounds and looked like only the shell of a person, the way Jemma imagined Daisy’s father might have looked. There were grooves in the floor from what Jemma presumed were Daisy’s nails and she swallowed a lump in her throat.   
  
“Daisy, it’s okay. I have a plan. I’m going to fix this.” She promised, tentatively reaching out to touch Daisy’s hand. She was going to end this once and for all like Jaiying said. 

Startled by the sudden touch, Daisy's unfocused eyes instantly welled further. Convinced that Jemma was just a hallucination of her wants and desires in that moment, the tears welled faster and began a cascade down her cheeks and off her shaking chin. Before it could be stopped, she began sobbing. "I-I...I can't..." she struggled between the little bit of air she could get from shallow gasps of air and the sobs. "P-please just...j-just...I j-just want...want t-to die...P-please just, just let me...I-I c-can't, can't...make it s-stop," her whole body shook with the force of her pained sobs and her eyes clenched shut hard since she felt like she couldn't trust them. She just wanted relief, just a few minutes even, just a moment to reorient her center, to find a tiny handhold on reality, just long enough so she could hang on even by a fingernail to something solid to make it through the night. But she didn't want to make it through. She couldn't bear to live this another night - she didn't even want to make it through this one. "Please," she repeated desperately, the word broken through the gasping sobs. How long til morning?  _ Too long _ , her brain shouted back.

“Oh, Daisy.” Jemma cried, pulling her shaking body in for a tight embrace. She held onto her like Daisy might die if she slipped away, because that was how it felt. She could feel Daisy giving up more and more each night and she never wanted her to suffer again, so a plan was forming in her head. “I’m going to fix it, I promise.” She hadn’t gotten what she thought she wanted from her trip to the other side, but she got what she needed to help Daisy, to help them all.


End file.
